i 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 




0000Qt7E3E4 






i i 




Qass. 
Book 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT 



American Prisoners of the 
Revolution \. 



BY 

DANSKE DANDRIDGE 



Author of 

George Michael Bedinger : A Kentucky Pioneer, 

"Jo)) and Other T^oems," "Historic 

Shepherdstown/' etc. 



And God requireth that which is pa^.^-—Eccles. Hi, 15. 



The Michie Company, Printe 

Charlottesville. Va. 

1911 



\^ 



.\ 



6 



0^^ 






(LXf^^^ 



Copyright, 1911 

BY 

Danske Dandridge 



V 

C.C1.A280424 



Dcbtcatton 



To THE Memory of my Grandfather 

lieutenant Daniel Bebinger, of Bebforb, Dirginia 

"A Boy in Prison" 

As Representative of All That Was Brav- 
est AND Most Honorable in the Life 
and Character of the Patriots of 1776 



PREFACE 

THE writer of this book has been interested for 
many years in the subject of the sufferings of 
the American prisoners of the Revolution. Finding 
the information she sought widely scattered, she has, 
for her own use, and for that of all students of the 
subject, gathered all the facts she could obtain within 
the covers of this volume. There is little that is orig- 
inal in the compilation. The reader will find that 
extensive use has been made of such narratives as that 
Captain Dring has left us. The accounts could have 
been given in the compiler's own words, but they 
would only, thereby, have lost in strength. The orig- 
inal narratives are all out of print, very scarce and 
hard to obtain, and the writer feels justified in re- 
printing them in this collection, for the sake of the 
general reader interested in the subject, and not able 
to search for himself through the mass of original 
material, some of which she has only discovered after 
months of research. Her work has mainly consisted 
in abridging these records, collected from so many dif- 
ferent sources. 

The writer desires to express her thanks to the 
courteous librarians of the Library of Congress and 
of the War and Navy Departments ; to Dr. Lang- 
worthy for permission to publish his able and inter- 
esting paper on the subject of the prisons in New 
York, and to many others who have helped her in her 
task. 

Danske Dandridge. 

December 6th, ipio. 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER PAGE 

Preface v 

I. Introductory 1 

II. The Riflemen of the Revolution . . 5 

III. Names of Some of the Prisoners of 

1776 20 

IV. The Prisoners of New York — Jona- 

than Gillett 25 

V. William Cunningham, the Provost 

Marshal 33 

VI. The Case of Jabez Fitch .... 48 
VII. The Hospital Doctor — A Tory's Ac- 
count OF New York in 1777 — Ethan 
Allen's Account of the Pris- 
oners 55 

VIII. The Account of Alexander Gray- 
don 69 

IX. A Foul Page of English History . . 77 

X. A Boy in Prison 82 

XI. The Newspapers of the Revolu- 
tion 90 

XII. The Trumbull Papers and Other 

Sources of Information 99 

XIII. A Journal Kept in the Provost . .112 

XIV. Further Testimony of Cruelties En- 

dured BY American Prisoners . .123 
XV. The Old Sugar House — Trinity 

Churchyard 128 

XVI. Case of John Blatchford ... . 138 
XVII. Benjamin Franklin and Others on 
THE Subject of American Prison- 
ers 161 



VIII Contents 

XVIII. The Adventures of Andrev^ Sher- 
burne 174 

XIX. More about the Engush Prisons 
— Memoir of Eli Bickford — Cap- 
tain Fanning 178 

^ XX. Some Southern Navai, Prison- 
ers 186 

XXI. Extracts from Newspapers — Some 
of the Prison Ships — Case of 

Captain Birdsall 192 

XXII. The Journai, of Dr. Elias Corne- 
lius — British Prisons in the 
South 208 

XXIII. A Poet on a Prison Ship ... 227 

XXIV. 'There was a Ship!" 237 

XXV. A Description of the Jersey . . 246 

XXVI. The Experience of Ebenezer 

Fox 254 

XXVII. The Experience of Ebenezer Fox 

(Continued) 269 

XXVIII. The Case of Christopher Hawkins 280 
XXIX. Testimony of Prisoners on Board 

THE Jersey "... 294 

XXX. Recollections of Andrew Sher- 
burne 299 

XXXI. Captain Roswell Palmer .... 305 
XXXII. The Narrative of Captain Alex- 
ander Coffin 311 

XXXIII. A Wonderful Deliverance . . 322 

XXXIV. The Narrative of Captain Dring . 332 
XXXV. The Narrative of Captain Dring 

(Continued) 344 

XXXVI. The Interment of the Dead . ,. 353 
XXXVII. Dame Grant and Her Boat . . 360 



Contents ix 

XXXVIII. The Supplies for the Prisoners . 362 
XXXIX. Fourth of July on the Jersey . 371 
XL. An Attempt to Escape .... 377 
XLI. The Memorial to General Wash- 
ington 383 

XLII. The Exchange 388 

XLIII. The Cartel — Captain Dring's Nar- 
rative (Continued) 394 

XLIV. Correspondence of Washington 

AND Others 399 

XLV. General Washington and Rear 
Admiral Digby — Commissaries 

Sproat and Skinner 424 

XLVI. Some of the Prisoners on Board 

THE Jersey 432 

Conclusion 446 

Appendix A. List of 8000 Men Who Were 

Prisoners on Board the Old Jersey . . 449 
Appendix B. The Prison Ship Martyrs of the 
Revolution, and an Unpublished Diary 
OF One of Them, William Slade, New 
Canaan, Conn., Later of Cornwall, Vt. . 492 
Appendix C. Bibliography 503 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 



CHAPTER I 
Introductory 

IT IS with no desire to excite animosity against a 
people whose blood is in our veins that we pub- 
lish this volume of facts about some of the Americans, 
seamen and soldiers, who were so unfortunate as to 
fall into the hands of the enemy during the period of 
the Revolution. We have concealed nothing of the 
truth, but we have set nothing down in malice, or 
with undue recrimination. 

It is for the sake of the martyrs of the prisons them- 
selves that this w^ork has been executed. It is because 
we, as a people, ought to know what was endured; 
what wretchedness, what relentless torture, even unto 
death, was nobly borne by the men who perished by 
thousands in British prisons and prison ships of the 
Revolution; it is because we are in danger of forget- 
ting the sacrifice they made of their fresh young lives 
in the service of their country ; because the story has 
never been adequately told, that we, however unfit 
we may feel ourselves for the task, have made an 
effort to give the people of America some account of 
the manner in which these young heroes, the flower 
of the land, in the prime of their vigorous manhood, 
met their terrible fate. 

Too long have they lain in the ditches where they 
were thrown, a cart-full at a time, like dead dogs, 
by their heartless murderers, unknown, unwept, un- 
honored, and unremembered. Who can tell us their 



2 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

names? What monument has been raised to their 
memories ? 

It is true that a beautiful shaft has lately been 
erected to the martyrs of the Jersey prison ship, 
about whom we will have very much to say. But it 
is improbable that even the place of interment of the 
hundreds of prisoners who perished in the churches, 
sugar houses, and other places used as prisons in 
New York in the early years of the Revolution, can 
now be discovered. We know that they were, for the 
most part, dumped into ditches dug on the outskirts 
of the little city, the New York of 1776. These 
ditches were dug by American soldiers, as part of the 
entrenchments, during Washington's occupation of 
Manhattan in the spring of 1776. Little did these 
young men think that they were, in some cases, lit- 
erally digging a grave for themselves. 

More than a hundred and thirty years have passed 
since the victims of Cunningham's cruelty and ra- 
pacity were starved to death in churches consecrated 
to the praise and worship of a God of love. It is a 
tardy recognition that we are giving them, and one 
that is most imperfect, yet it is all that we can now 
do. The ditches where they were interred have long 
ago been filled up, built over, and intersected by 
streets. Who of the multitude that daily pass to and 
fro over the ground that should be sacred ever give 
a thought to the remains of the brave men beneath 
their feet, who perished that they might enjoy the 
blessings of liberty? 

Republics are ungrateful; they have short mem- 
ories; but it is due to the martyrs of the Revolution 
that some attempt should be made to tell to the gen- 
erations that succeed them who they were, what they 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 3 

did, and why they suffered so terribly and died so 
grimly, without weakening, and without betraying the 
cause of that country which was dearer to them than 
their lives. 

We have, for the most part, limited ourselves to 
the prisons and prison ships in the city and on the 
waters of New York. This is because such infor- 
mation as we have been able to obtain concerning the 
treatment of American prisoners by the British re- 
lates, almost entirely, to that locality. 

It is a terrible story that we are about to narrate, 
and we warn the lOver of pleasant books to lay down 
our volume at the first page. We shall see Cun- 
ningham, that burly, red-faced ruffian, the Provost 
Marshal, wreaking his vengeance upon the defence- 
less prisoners in his keeping, for the assault made 
upon him at the outbreak of the war, when he and a 
companion who had made themselves obnoxious to 
the republicans were mobbed and beaten in the 
streets of New York. He was rescued by some 
friends of law and order, and locked up in one of 
the jails which was soon to be the theatre of his 
revenge. We shall narrate the sufferings of the 
American prisoners taken at the time of the battle 
of Long Island, and after the surrender of Fort 
Washington, which events occurred, the first in 
August, the second in November of the year 1776. 

What we have been able to glean from many 
sources, none of which contradict each other in any 
important point, about the prisons and prison ships 
in New York, with a few narratives written by those 
who were imprisoned in other places, shall fill this 
volume. Perhaps others, far better fitted for the 
task, will make the necessary researches, in order to 



4 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

lay before the American people a statement of what 
took place in the British prisons at Halifax, Charles- 
ton, Philadelphia, the waters oif the coast of Florida, 
and other places, during the eight years of the war. 
It is a solemn and affecting duty that we owe to the 
dead, and it is in no light spirit that we, for our part, 
begin our portion of the task. 



CHAPTER II 
The Rifi^emen of the Revoi^ution 

WE WILL first endeavor to give the reader some 
idea of the men who were imprisoned in 
New York in the fall and winter of 1776. It was in 
the summer of that year that Congress ordered a 
regiment of riflemen to be raised in Maryland and 
Virginia. These, with the so-called ''Flying Camp" 
of Pennsylvania, made the bulk of the soldiers taken 
prisoners at Fort Washington on the fatal 16th of 
November. Washington had already proved to his 
own satisfaction the value of such soldiers; not only 
by his experience with them in the French and 
Indian wars, but also during the siege of Boston in 
1775-6. 

These hardy young riflemen were at first called by 
the British "regulars," "a rabble in calico petticoats," 
as a term of contempt. Their uniform consisted of 
tow linen or homespun hunting shirts, buckskin 
breeches, leggings and moccasins. They wore round 
felt hats, looped on one side and ornamented with a 
buck tail. They carried long rifles, shot pouches, 
tomahawks, and scalping knives. 

They soon proved themselves of great value for 
their superior marksmanship, and the British, who 
began by scoffing at them, ended by fearing and hat- 
ing them as they feared and hated no other troops. 
The many accounts of the skill of these riflemen are 
interesting, and some of them shall be given here. 

One of the first companies that marched to the 
aid of Washington when he was at Cambridge in 
1775 was that of Captain Michael Cresap, which was 



6 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

raised partly in Maryland and partly in the western 
part of Virginia. This gallant young officer died in 
New York in the fall of 1775, a year before the sur- 
render of Fort Washington, yet his company may 
be taken as a fair sample of what the riflemen of the 
frontiers of our country were, and of what they could 
do. We will therefore give the words of an eye- 
witness of their performances. This account is taken 
from the Pennsylvania Journal of August 23rd, 1775. 
"On Friday evening last arrived at Lancaster, Pa., 
on their way to the American camp. Captain Cresap's 
Company of Riflemen, consisting of one hundred and 
thirty active, brave young fellows, many of whom 
have been in the late expedition under Lord Dunmore 
against the Indians. They bear in their bodies visible 
marks of their prowess, and show scars and wounds 
which would do honour to Homer's Iliad. They 
show you, to use the poet's words : 

"'Where the gor'd battle bled at ev'ry vein!' 

"One of these warriors in particular shows the 
cicatrices of four bullet holes through his body. 
^y--- "These men have been bred in the woods to hard- 
ships and dangers since their infancy. They appear 
as if they were entirely unacquainted with, and had 
never felt the passion of fear. With their rifles in 
their hands, they assume a kind of omnipotence over 
their enemies. One cannot much wonder at this 
when we mention a fact which can be fully attested 
by several of the reputable persons who were eye- 
witnesses of it. Two brothers in the company took 
a piece of board five inches broad, and seven inches 
long, with a bit of white paper, the size of a dollar, 
nailed in the centre, and while one of them supported 



American Prisoners of the RevoIvUTion 7 

this board perpendicularly between his knees, the 
other at the distance of upwards of sixty yards, and 
without any kind of rest, shot eight bullets through it 
successively, and spared a brother's thigh ! 

"Another of the company held a barrel stave per- 
pendicularly in his hands, with one edge close to his 
side, while one of his comrades, at the same distance^ 
and in the manner before mentioned, shot several 
bullets through it, without any apprehension of 
danger on either side. 

"The spectators appearing to be amazed at these 
feats, were told that there were upwards of fifty 
persons in the same company who could do the same 
thing; that there was not one who could not 'plug; 
nineteen bullets out of twenty,' as they termed it. 
within an inch of the head of a ten-penny nail. 

"In short, to evince the confidence they possessed in 
these kind of arms, some of them proposed to stand 
with apples on their heads, while others at the same 
distance undertook to shoot them off, but the people 
who saw the other experiments declined to be wit- 
nesses of this. 

"At night a great fire was kindled around a pole 
planted in the Court House Square, where the com- 
pany with the Captain at their head, all naked to the 
waist and painted like savages (except the Captain, 
who was in an Indian shirt), indulged a vast con- 
course of people with a perfect exhibition of a war- 
dance and all the manoeuvres of Indians; holding 
council, going to war; circumventing their enemies 
by defiles; ambuscades; attacking; scalping, etc. It 
is said by those who are judges that no representation 
could possibly come nearer the original. The Cap- 
tain's expertness and agility, in particular, in these 



8 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

experiments, astonished every beholder. This morn- 
ing they will set out on their march for Cambridge." 

From the Virginia Gazette of July 22nd, 1775, we 
make the following extract : ''A correspondent in- 
forms us that one of the gentlemen appointed to 
command a company of riflemen to be raised in one 
of the frontier counties of Pennsylvania had so many 
applications from the people in his neighborhood, to 
be enrolled in the service, that a greater number pre- 
sented themselves than his instructions permitted him 
to engage, and being unwilling to give offence to any 
he thought of the following expedient: He, with a 
piece of chalk, drew on a board the figure of a nose 
of the common size, which he placed at the distance 
of 150 3^ards, declaring that those who came nearest 
the mark should be enlisted. Sixty odd hit the 
object. — General Gage, take care of your nose!" 

From the Pennsylvania Journal, July 25th, 1775 : 
**Captain Dowdle with his company of riflemen from 
Yorktown, Pa., arrived at Cambridge about one 
o'clock today, and since has made proposals to Gen- 
eral Washington to attack the transport stationed at 
Charles River. He will engage to take her with thirty 
men. The General thinks it best to decline at present, 
but at the same time commends the spirit of Captain 
Dowdle and his brave men, who, though they just 
came a very long march, offered to execute the plan 
immediately." 

In the third volume of American Archives, is an 
extract from a letter to a gentleman in Philadelphia, 
dated Frederick Town, Maryland, August 1st, 1775, 
which speaks of the same company of riflemen whose 
wonderful marksmanship we have already noted. 
The writer says : 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 9 

"Notwithstanding the urgency of my business I 
have been detained here three days by a circumstance 
truly agreeable. I have had the happiness of seeing 
Captain Michael Cresap marching at the head of a 
formidable company of upwards of one hundred and 
thirty men from the mountains and backwoods; 
painted Hke Indians; armed with tomahawks and 
rifles ; dressed in hunting shirts and moccasins ; and, 
tho' some of them had travelled hundreds of miles 
from the banks of the Ohio, they seemed to walk 
light and easy, and not with less spirit than at the 
first hour of their march. 

"I was favored by being constantly in Captain 
Cresap's company, and watched the behavior of his 
men and the manner in which he treated them, for 
is seems that all who go out to war under him do 
not only pay the most willing obedience to him as 
their commander, but in every instance of distress 
look up to him as their friend and father. A great 
part of his time was spent in Hstening to and relieving 
their wants, without any apparent sense of fatigue 
and trouble. When complaints were before him he 
determined with kindness and spirit, and on every 
occasion condescended to please without losing 
dignity. 

"Yesterday, July 31st, the company were supplied 
with a small quantity of powder, from the magazine, 
which wanted airing, and was not in good order for 
rifles: in the evening, however, they were drawn out 
to show the gentlemen of the town their dexterity in 
shooting. A clap board with a mark the size of a 
dollar was put up; they began to fire offhand, and 
the bystanders were surprised. Few shots were made 
that were not close to, or into, the paper. When they 



10 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

had shot some time in this way, some lay on their 
backs, some on their breasts or sides, others ran 
twenty or thirty steps, and, firing as they ran, ap- 
peared to be equally certain of the mark. With this 
performance the company were more than satisfied, 
when a young man took up the board in his hand, 
and not by the end, but by the side, and, holding it 
up, his brother walked to the distance, and coolly shot 
into the white. Laying down his rifle he took the 
board, and holding it as it was held before, the second 
brother shot as the former had done. 

"By this exhibition I was more astonished than 
pleased, but will you believe me when I tell you that 
one of the men took the board, and placing it be- 
tween his legs, stood with his back to a tree, while 
another drove the centre? 

"What would a regular army of considerable 
strength in the forests of America do with one 
thousand of these men, who want nothing to preserve 
their health but water from the spring; with a little 
parched corn (with what they can easily procure by 
hunting) ; and who, wrapped in their blankets in the 
dead of night, would choose the shade of a tree for 
their covering, and the earth for their bed?" 

The descriptions we have quoted apply to the rifle 
companies of 1775, but they are a good general 
description of the abilities of the riflemen raised in 
the succeeding years of the war, many indeed being 
the same men who first volunteered in 1775. In the 
possession of one of his descendants is a letter from 
one of these men written many years after the Revo- 
lution to the son of an old comrade in arms, giving an 
account of that comrade's experiences during a part 
of the war. The letter was written by Major Henry 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 1 1 

Bedinger of Berkeley County, Virginia, to a son of 
General Samuel Finley. 

Henry Bedinger was descended from an old Ger- 
man family. His grandfather had emigrated to 
America from Alsace in 1737 to escape persecution 
for his religious beliefs. The highest rank that 
Bedinger attained in the War of the Revolution was 
that of captain. He was a Knight of the Order of 
the Cincinnati, and he was, after the war, a major of 
the militia of Berkeley County. The document in 
possession of one of his descendants is undated, and 
appears to have been a rough copy or draught of the 
original, which may now be in the keeping of some 
one of the descendants of General Finley. We will 
give it almost entire. Such family letters are, we 
need scarcely say, of great value to all who are in- 
terested in historical research, supplying, as they do, 
the necessary details which fill out and ampHfy the 
bare facts of history, giving us a living picture of 
the times and events that they describe. 

PART OF A LETTER FROM MAJOR HENRY BEDINGER TO 
A SON OF GENERAL SAMUEL FINLEY 

''Some time in 1774 the late Gen'l Sam'l Finley 
Came to Martinsburg, Berkeley County, Virginia, and 
engaged wuth the late Col'o John Morrow to assist 
his brother, Charles Morrow, in the business of a 
retail store. 

Mr. Finley continued in that employment until the 
spring of 1775, when Congress called on the State 
of Virginia for two Complete Independent Volunteer 
Companies of Riflemen of 100 Men each, to assist 
Gen'l Washington in the Siege of Boston & to serve 
one year. Captains Hugh Stephenson of Berkeley, 



12 American Prisoners of the RevoIvUtion 

& Daniel Morgan of Frederick were selected to raise 
and command those companies, they being the first 
Regular troops required to be raised in the State of 
Virginia for Continental service. 

''Captain Hugh Stephenson's rendezvous was Shep- 
herd's Town (not Martinsburg) and Captain Mor- 
gan's was Winchester. Great exertions were made 
by each Captain to complete his company first, that 
, merit might be claimed on that account. Volunteers 

, presented themselves in every direction in the Vicinity 

of these Towns, none were received but young men of 
Character, and of sufficient property to Clothe them- 
selves completely, find their own arms, and accoutre- 
ments, that is, an approved Rifle, handsome shot 
pouch, and powder horn, blanket, knapsack, with such 
decent clothing as should be prescribed, but which 
was at first ordered to be only a Hunting shirt and 
j , pantaloons, fringed on every edge and in Various 

ways. 

''Our Company was raised in less than a week. 
Morgan had equal success. — It was never decided 
which Compan)' was first filled — 

"These Companies being thus unexpectedly called 
for it was a difficult task to obtain rifles of the quality 
required & we were detained at Shepherds Town 
nearly six weeks before we could obtain such. Your 
Father and some of his Bosom Companions were 
among the first enrolled. My Brother, G. M. B., and 
myself, with many of our Companions, soon joined 
to the amount of 100 — no more could be received. The 
Committee of Safety had appointed Wm Henshaw as 
1st Lieut., George Scott 2nd, and Thomas Hite as 
3rd Lieut to this Company, this latter however, de- 
clined accepting, and Abraham Shepherd succeeded 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 13 

as 3d Lieut — all the rest Stood on an equal footing 
as Volunteers — We remained at Shepherds Town un- 
till the 16th July before we could be Completely armed, 
notwithstanding the utmost exertions. In the mean 
time your Father obtained from the gunsmith a re- 
rriarkable neat light rifle, the stock inlaid and orna- 
mented with silver, which he held, untill Compelled, 
as were all of us — to ground our arms and surrender 
to the enemy on the evening of the 16th day of 
November 1776. 

"In our Company were many young men of Con- 
siderable fortune, & who generally entered from 
patriotic motives * * *. Our time of service be- 
ing about to expire Captain Hugh Stephenson was 
commissioned a Colonel; Moses Rawlings a Lieuten- 
ant Colonel, and Otho WilHams Major, to raise a 
Rifle Regiment for three years : four companies to be 
raised in Virginia and four in Maryland. 

"Henshaw and Scott chose to return home. Abra- 
ham Shepherd was commissioned Captain, Sam'l 
Finley First Lieutenant, WilHam Kelly Second Lieu- 
tenant, and myself 3rd Lieutenant. The Commissions 
of the Field Oflicers were dated the 8th July, 1776, 
& those of our Company the 9th of the same month. 
Shepherd, Finley and myself were dispatched to 
Berkeley to recruit and refill the old Company, which 
we performed in about five weeks. Col'o Stephenson 
also returned to Virginia to facilitate the raising the 
additional Companies. While actively employed in 
August, 1776, he was taken sick, and in four days 
died. The command of the Regiment devolved on 
Lieutenant Colonel Moses Rawlings, a Very worthy 
and brave oflicer. 

"Our Company being filled we Marched early in 



14 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

September to our Rendezvous at Bergen. So soon 
as the Regiment was formed it was ordered up the 
North River to the EngUsh Neighborhood, & in a 
short time ordered to cross the River and assist in 
the defence of Fort Washington, where were about 
three thousand men under the command of Col'o 
Magaw, on New York Island. The enemy in the 
mean time possessed New York, and had followed 
General Washington to the White Plains, from 
whence, after several partial actions, he returned, and 
approached us by the way of King's bridge, with a 
force of from 8 to 12000 Men. Several frigates ran 
up the Hudson from New York to cut off our inter- 
course with Fort Lee, a fort on the opposite bank of 
the North River: and by regular approaches invested 
us on all sides. 

*'On the 15th November, 1776, the British General 
Pattison appeared with a flag near our Guards, de- 
manding a surrender of Fort Washington and the 
Garrison. Col'o Magaw repUed he should defend it 
to the last extremity. Pattison declared all was ready 
to storm the lines and fort, we of course prepared for 
the Pending contest. 

"At break of day the next morning, the enemy com- 
menced a tremendous Cannonade on every side, while 
their troops advanced. Our Regt. tho weak, was most 
advantageously posted by Rawlings and Williams, on 
a Small Ridge, about half a mile above Fort Wash- 
ington. The Ridge ran from the North River, in 
which lay three frigates, towards the East River. A 
deep Valley divided us from the enemy, their frigates 
enfiladed, & their Cannon on the heights behind the 
advancing troops played incessantly on our party 
(consisting of Rawling's Regiment, say 250 men, and 



American Prisoners of the Revoi.ution 15 

one other company from Maryland, and four com- 
panies of Pennsylvania Flying Camp, also for the 
present commanded by Rawlings and Williams). 

"The Artillery were endeavoring to clear the hill 
while their troops crossing the V^alley were ascending 
it, but without much effect. A few of our men were 
killed with Cannon and Grape Shott. Not a Shott 
was fired on our side untill the Enemy had nearly 
gained the Sumit. Though at least five times our 
numbers Our rifles brought down so many that they 
gave way several times, but by their overwhelming 
numbers they at last succeeded in possessing the sum- 
mit. Here, however, was great carnage, each making 
every effort to possess and hold so advantageous a 
position. This obstinacy continued for more than an 
hour, when the enemy brought up some field pieces, 
as well as reinforcements. Finding all resistance use- 
less, our Regiment gradually gave way, tho' not be- 
fore Col'o Rawlings, Major Williams, Peter Hanson, 
Nin Tannehill, and myself were wounded, ht Har- 
rison"^ was the only officer of our Regiment Killed. 
Hanson and Tannehill were mortally wounded. The 
latter died the same night in the Fort, & Hanson died 
in New York a short time after. Capt. A. Shepherd, 
Lieut. Daniel Cresap and myself, with fifty men, were 
detailed the day before the action and placed in the 
van to receive the enemy as they came up the hill. 

''The Regiment was paraded in line about fifty 
yards in our rear, ready to support us. Your Father 
of course on that day, and in the whole of the action 
commanded Shepherd's Company, which performed its 
duty admirably. About two o'clock P. M. the Enemy 
obtained complete possession of the hill, and former 

^Lieutenant Battaille Harrison of Berkeley County, Va. 



16 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

battle-ground. Our troops retreated gradually from 
redoubt to redoubt, contesting every inch of ground, 
still making dreadful Havoc in the ranks of the enemy. 
We laboured too under disadvantages, the wind blew 
the smoke full in our faces. About two o'clock A. 
Shepherd, being the senior Captain, took command of 
the Regiment,* and by the advice of Col'o Rawlings 
& Major Williams, gradually retreated from redoubt 
to redoubt, to & into the fort with the surviving part 
of the Regiment. Col'o Rawlings, Major Williams, and 
Lt Hanson and myself quitted the field together, and 
retreated to the fort. I was slightly wounded, tho my 
right hand was rendered entirely useless. Your Father 
continued with the regiment until'all had arrived in the 
fort. It was admitted by all the surviving officers that 
he had conducted himself with great gallantry and the 
utmost propriety. 

"While we were thus engaged the enemy succeeded 
much better in every other quarter, & with little com- 
parative loss. All were driven into the fort and the 
enemy began by sundown to break ground within 100 
yards of the fort. 

"Finding our situation desperate Col'o Magaw dis- 
patched a flag to Gen. Howe who Commanded in per- 
son, proposing to surrender on certain conditions, 
which not being agreed to, other terms were proposed 
and accepted. The garrison, consisting of 2673 pri- 
vates, & 210 officers, marched out, grounded arms, and 
were guarded to the White House that same night, but 
instead of being treated as agreed on, and allowed to 
retain baggage, clothes, and Side Arms, every valuable 
article was torn away from both officers and soldiers : 
every sword, pistol, every good hat was seized, even in 

*After Rawlings and Williams were disabled. 



American Prisoners of the Revoi^ution 17 

presence of Brittish officers, &: the prisoners were con- 
sidered and treated as Rebels, to the king and country. 
On the third day after our surrender we were guarded 
to New York, fourteen miles from Fort Washington, 
where in the evening we received some barrels of 
raw pork and musty spoiled biscuit, being the first 
Morsel of provision we had seen for more than three 
days. The officers were then separated from the 
soldiers, had articles of parole presented to us which 
we signed, placed into deserted houses without Cloth- 
ing, provisions, or fire. No officer was permitted to 
have a servant, but we acted in rotation, carried 
our Cole and Provisions about half a mile on our 
backs, Cooked as well as we could, and tried to keep 
from Starving. 

"Our poor Soldiers fared most wretchedly different. 
They were crowded into sugar houses and Jails with- 
out blankets or covering; had Very little given to 
them to eat, and that little of the Very worst quality. 
So that in two months and four days about 1900 of 
the Fort Washington troops had died. The survivors 
were sent out and receipted for by General Washing- 
ton, and we the officers were sent to Long Island on 
parole, and billetted, two in a house, on the families 
residing in the little townships of Flatbush, New 
Utrecht, Newlots, and Gravesend, who were com- 
pelled to board and lodge us at the rate of two dollars 
per week, a small compensation indeed in the ex- 
hausted state of that section of country. The people 
were kind, being mostly conquered Whigs, but some- 
times hard run to provide sustenance for their own 
families, with the addition, generally, of two men who 
must have a share of what could be obtained. These 
people could not have furnished us but for the ad- 
—2 



18 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

vantage of the fisheries, .and access at all times to the 
water. Fish, oysters, clams, Eels, and wild fowl 
could always be obtained in their season. 

"We were thus fixed on the inhabitants, but with- 
out money, or clothing. Sometimes a companion 
would receive a few hard dollars from a friend 
through a flag of truce, which was often shared by 
others to purchase a pair of shoes or a shirt. 

''While in New York Major Williams received 
from a friend about forty silver dollars. He was 
still down with his wound, but requested Captain 
Shepherd, your Father and myself to come to his 
room, and there lent each of us ten Dollars, which 
enabled each of us to purchase a pair shoes, a shirt, 
and some other small matters : this liberality how- 
ever, gave some offence. Major Williams was a 
Marylander, and to assist a Virginian, in preference 
to a Marylander, was a Crime almost unpardonable. 
It however passed off, as it so happened there were 
some refugees in New York from Maryland who had 
generosity enough to relieve the pressing wants of a 
few of their former acquaintances. 

"We thus lived in want and perfect idleness for 
years: tho sometimes if Books could be obtained we 
made out to read : if paper, pen, and ink could be had 
we wrote. Also to prevent becoming too feeble we 
exercised our bodies by playing fives, throwing long 
bullets, wrestling, running, jumping, and other 
athletick exercises, in all of which your Father fully 
participated. Being all nearly on the same footing 
as to Clothing and pocket money (that is we seldom 
had any of the latter) we Hved on an equality. 

"In the fall of 1777 the Brittish Commander was 
informed a plan was forming by a party of Americans 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 19 

to pass over to Long Island and sweep us off, release 
us from captivity. There were then on the Island 
about three hundred American officers prisoners. We 
were of course ordered off immediately, and placed 
on board of two large transports in the North River, 
as prison ships, where we remained but about 18 
days, but it being Very Cold, and we Confined be- 
tween decks, the Steam and breath of 150 men soon 
gave us Coughs, then fevers, and had we not been re- 
moved back to our billets I believe One half would 
have died in six weeks. This is all the imprisonment 
your " 

"The rest of this valuable letter has been, most un- 
fortunately lost, or possibly it was never completed. 

We have given a great deal of it because of its 
graphic description of the men who were captured 
at Fort Washington, and of the battle itself. Major 
Bedinger was a dignified, well-to-do, country gentle- 
man ; honored and respected by all who knew him, and 
of unimpeachable veracity. 



CHAPTER III 
Names of Some of the Prisoners of 1776 

AS WE have seen, the officers fared well in com- 
parison with the wretched privates. Paroled 
and allowed the freedom of the city, they had far 
better opportunities to obtain the necessities of life. 
"Our poor soldiers fared most wretchedly different," 
says Major Bedinger. 

Before we begin, however, to speak of the treat- 
ment they received, we must make some attempt to 
tell the reader who they were. We wish it were pos- 
sible to give the name of every private who died, or 
rather who was murdered, in the prisons of New 
York at this time. But that, we fear, is now an im- 
possibility. As this account is designed as a memorial 
to those martyred privates, we have made many ef- 
forts to obtain their names. But if the muster rolls 
of the different companies who formed the Rifle Regi- 
ment, the Pennsylvania Flying Camp, and the other 
troops captured by the British in the summer and fall 
of 1776 are in existence, we have not been able to 
find them. 

The records of the Revolution kept in the War De- 
partment in England have been searched in vain by 
American historians. It is said that the Provost 
Marshal, William Cunningham, destroyed his books, 
in order to leave no written record of his crimes. The 
names of 8,000 prisoners, mostly seamen, who were 
confined on the prison ship Jersey, alone, have been 
obtained by the Society of Old Brooklynites, from the 
British Archives, and, by the kind permission of this 
Society, we re-publish them in the Appendix to this 
volume. 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 21 

Here and there, also, we have obtained a name of 
one of the brave young riflemen who died in torment 
a hundred times worse, because so much less swift, 
than that endured on a memorable occasion in India, 
when British soldiers were placed, during a single 
night, into one of their own *'Black Holes." But the 
names of almost all of these our tortured countrymen 
c^re forgotten as completely as their places of inter- 
ment are neglected. 

In the hands of the writer, however, at this time* 
is the pay-roll of one of these companies of riflemen, — 
that of Captain Abraham Shepherd of Shepherds- 
town, Virginia. It is in the handwriting of Henry 
Bedinger, one of the lieutenants of the company. 

We propose to take this Hst, or pay roll, as a 
sample, and to follow, as well as we can, at this late 
day, the misfortunes of the men named therein. For 
this purpose we will first give the list of names, and 
afterwards attempt to indicate how many of the men 
died in confinement, and how many lived to be ex- 
changed. 

MUSTER ROLIv 

The paper in question, falling to pieces with age, 
and almost illegible in places, is headed, **An AB- 
STRACT of the Pay due the Officers and Privates 
of the Company of Riflemen belonging to Captain 
Abraham Shepherd, being part of a Battalion raised 
by Colonel Hugh Stevenson, deceased, and afterwards 
commanded by Lieut Colonel Moses Rawlings, in the 
Continental Service from July 1st, 1776, to October 
1st, 1778." The paper gives the "dates of enfistment; 

*This muster roll was lent to the writer by Henry 
Bedinger Davenport, Esq., a descendant of Major Bed- 
inger. 



22 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

those who were killed; those who died; those who 
deserted; those who were discharged; drafted; made 
prisoners; "dates until when pay is charged;" "pay 
per month;" ''amount in Dollars," and "amount in 
lawful Money, Pounds, Shillings and pence." From 
this account much information can be gleaned con- 
cerning the members of the company, but we will, for 
the present, content ourselves with giving the muster 
roll of the company. 

MUSTER ROLL OF CAPTAIN ABRAHAM SHEPHERD'S COM- 
PANY OF RIFLEMEN RAISED IN JULY, 1776 

Captain Abraham Shepherd. 
First Lieutenant, Samuel Finley. 
Second Lieutenant, William Kelly. 
Third Lieutenant, Henry Bedinger. 
First Sergeant, John Crawford. 
Second Sergeant, John Kerney. 
Third Sergeant, Robert Howard. 
Fourth Sergeant, Dennis Bush. 
First Corporal, John Seaburn. 
Second Corporal, Evert Hoglant. 
Third Corporal, Thomas Knox. 
Fourth Corporal, Jonathan Gibbons. 
Drummer, Stephen Vardine. 
Fifer, Thomas Cook. 
Armourer, James Roberts. 

Privates, WiUiam Anderson, Jacob Wine, Richard 
Neal, Peter Hill, WilHam Waller, Adam Sheetz, James 
Hamilton, George Taylor, Adam Rider, Patrick 
Vaughan, Peter Hanes, John Malcher, Peter Snyder, 
Daniel Bedinger, John Barger, William Hickman, 
Thomas Pollock, Bryan Timmons, Thomas Mitchell, 
Conrad Rush, David Harman, James Aitken, WiUiam 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 23 

Wilson, John Wilson, Moses McComesky, Thomas 
Beatty, John Gray, Valentine Fritz, Zechariah Bull, 
William Moredock, Charles Collins, Samuel Davis, 
Conrad Cabbage, John Cummins, Gabriel Stevens, 
Michael Wolf, John Lewis, William Donnelly, David 
Gilmore, John Cassody, Samuel Blount, Peter Good,. 
George Helm, William Bogle (or Boyle), John Nixon,. 
Anthony Blackhead, Christian Peninger, Charles 
Jones, William Case, Casper Myre, George Brown, 
Benjamin McKnight, Anthony Larkin, William Sea- 
man, Charles Snowden, John Boulden, John Blake,. 
Nicholas Russell, Benjamin Hughes, James Brown,. 
James Fox, William Hicks, Patrick Council, John 
Holmes, John McSwaine, James Griffith, Patrick 
Murphy, James Aitken. 

Besides the names of this company we can give 
a few privates of the Pennsylvania Flying Camp who 
are mentioned by Saffel. He adds that, as far as is 
known, all of these perished in prison, after inscribing 
their names high up upon the walls. 

SOME privates of the pennsyIvVania flying camp 

WHO PERISHED IN PRISON IN YJ76-7 

"Charles Fleming, John Wright, James McKinney, 
Ebenezer Stille, Jacob Leinhart, Abraham Van 
Gordon, Peter D'Aubert, William Carbury, John 
McDov/ell, Wm. McKague, Henry Parker, James 
Burns, Henry Yepler, Baltus Weigh, Charles Beason, 
Leonard Huber, John McCarroll, Jacob Guiger, John 
May, Daniel Adams, George McCormick, Jacob Kettle, 
Jacob Miller, George Mason, James Kearney, David 
Sutor, Adam Bridel, Christian Mull, Daniel McKnight, 
Cornelius Westbrook, Luke Murphy, Joseph Conklin, 



24 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

Adam Dennis, Edward Ogden, Wm. Scoonover, 
James Rosencrants." 

The names of the officers who were prisoners in 
New York after the battle of Long Island and the 
surrender of Fort Washington, can easily be obtained. 
But it is not with these, at present, that we have to 
do. We have already seen how much better was their 
treatment than that accorded to the hapless privates. 
It is chiefly to commemmorate the sufferings of the 
private soldier and seaman in the British prisons that 
this account has been written. 



CHAPTER IV 

The Prisons of New York — Jonathan GiIvI^ett 
'E WILL now endeavor to describe the principal 



w 



places of confinement used by the British in 
New York during the early years of the war. 

Lossing, in his Field Book of the Revolution, thus 
speaks of these dens of misery : "At the fight around 
Fort Washington," he says, ''only one hundred Ameri- 
cans were killed, while the British loss was one 
thousand, chiefly Hessians, But the British took a 
most cruel revenge. Out of over 2600 prisoners taken 
on that day, in two months & four days 1900 were 
killed in the infamous sugar houses and other prisons 
in the city. 

"Association of intense horror are linked with the 
records of the prisons and prison ships of New York. 
Thousands of captives perished miserably of hunger, 
cold, infection, and in some cases, actual poison. 

"All the prisoners taken in the battle near Brooklyn 
in August, 1776 and at Fort Washington in November 
of the same year, were confined in New York, nearly 
4000 in all. The New Jail and the New Bridewell 
were the only prisons. The former is the present Hall 
of Records. Three sugar houses, some dissenting 
churches, Columbia College, and the Hospital were all 
used as prisons. The great fire in September; the 
scarcity of provisions; and the cruel conduct of the 
Provost Marshal all combined to produce intense suf- 
ferings among the men, most of whom entered into 
captivity, strong, healthy, young, able-bodied, the 
flower of the American youth of the day. 

"Van Cortlandt's Sugar House was a famous (or 



26 American Prisoners of the Revoi^utign 

infamous) prison. It stood on the northwest corner 
of Trinity church-yard. 

"Rhinelanders Sugar House was on the corner of 
William and Duane Streets. Perhaps the worst of all 
the New York prisons was the third Sugar House, 
which occupied the space on Liberty Street/where two 
buildings, numbers 34 and 36, now stand. 

"The North Dutch Church on William Street con- 
tained 800 prisoners, and there were perhaps as many 
in the Middle Dutch Church. The Friends' Meeting 
House on Liberty and several other buildings erected 
for the worship of a God of love were used as prisons. 

"The New Jail was made a Provost Prison, and 
here officers and men of note were confined. At one 
time they were so crowded into this building, that when 
they lay down upon the floor to sleep all in the row 
were obliged to turn over at the same time at the call, 
'Turn over ! Left ! Right !' 

"The sufferings of these brave men were largely due 
to the criminal indifference of Loring, Sproat, Lennox, 
and other Commissaries of the prisoners. 

"Many of the captives were hanged in the gloom of 
night without trial and without a semblance of justice. 

"Liberty Street Sugar House was a tall, narrow 
building five stories in height, and with dismal under- 
ground dungeons. In this gloomy abode jail fever was 
ever present. In the hot weather of July, 1777, com- 
panies of twenty at a time would be sent out for half 
an hour's outing, in the court yard. Inside groups of 
six stood for ten minutes at a time at the windows for 
a breath of air. 

"There were no seats; the filthy straw bedding was 
never changed. Every day at least a dozen corpses 
were dragged out and pitched like dead dogs into the 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 27 

ditches and morasses beyond the city. Escapes, 
deaths, and exchange at last thinned the ranks. Hun- 
dreds left names and records on the walls." 

"In 1778 the hulks of decaying ships were moored 
in the Wallabout. These prison ships v/ere intended 
for sailors and seaman taken on the ocean, mostly the 
crews of privateersmen, but some soldiers were also 
sent to languish in their holds. 

"The first' vessels used were transports in which 
cattle and other- stores had been brought over by the 
British in 1776. These lay in Gravesend Bay and there 
many of the prisoners taken in battle near Brooklyn in 
August, 1776, wxre confined, until the British took 
possession of New York, when they were moved to 
that city. In 1778 the hulks of ships were moored in 
the Wallabout, a sheltered bay on the Long Island 
shore, where the Navy Yard now is." 

The sufferings of the prisoners can be better under- 
stood by giving individual instances, and wherever this 
is possible it shall be done. We will commence by an 
abstract of 

THE CASE OF JONATHAN GILLETT OF WEST HARFORD 

This man with seven others was captured on Long 
Island on the 27th of August, 1776, before they could 
take to their boats. He was at first confined in a 
prison ship, but a Masonic brother named John Archer 
procured him the liberty of the city on parole. His 
rank, we believe, was that of a lieutenant. He was a 
prisoner two years, then was allowed to go home to 
die. He exhibited every symptom of poison as well 
as starvation. 

When he was dying he said to his son, Jonathan 
Gillett, Junior, "Should you enlist and be taken pris- 



28 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

oner as I was, inquire for Mr. John Archer, a man 
with whom I boarded. He will assist you." 

In course of time his son enlisted, was taken pris- 
oner, and confined in the Old Sugar House on Liberty 
Street. Here he was nearly starved to death. The 
prisoners ate mice, rats, and insects. He one day 
found in the prison yard the dry parings of a turnip 
which seemed to him a dehcious banquet. It is 
recorded that Jonathan Gillett, Jr., was finally freed 
from captivity through the efforts of the same gentle- 
man, Mr. John Archer, who had aided his father. 

In 1852 Jacob Barker offered to present survivors 
who had been confined in the Old Sugar House with 
canes made from the lumber used in its construction. 
Four of these survivors were found. Their names 
were William Clark, Samuel Moulton, Levi Hanford, 
and Jonathan Gillett, Jr. The latter's father during 
his confinement wrote a letter to his friends which 
has been preserved, and is as follows : 

My Friends, 

No doubt my misfortunes have reached your ears. 
Sad as it is, it is true as sad. I was made prisoner the 
27th day of August past by a people called heshens, 
and by a party called Yagers the most Inhuman of all 
Mortals. I cant give Room to picture them here but 
thus much — I at first Resolved not to be taken, but by 
the Impertunity of the Seven taken with me, and being 
surrounded on all sides I unhapily surendered; would 
to God I never had — then I should never (have) known 
there unmerciful cruelties ; they first disarmed me, 
then plundered me of all I had, watch, Buckles, money, 
and sum Clothing, after which they abused me by 
bruising my flesh with the butts of there (guns). They 
knocked me down; I got up and they (kept on) beat- 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 29 

ing me almost all the way to there (camp) where I 
got shot of them — the next thing was I was allmost 
starved to death by them. I was keept here 8 days and 
then sent on board a ship, where I continued 39 days 
and by (them was treated) much worse than when on 
shore — after I was set on (shore) at New York (I 
was) confined (under) a strong guard till the 20th day 
of November, after which I have had my liberty to 
walk part over the City between sun and sun, notwith- 
standing there generous allowance of food I must 
inevitably have perished with hunger had not sum 
friends in this (city) Relieved my extreme necessity, 
but I cant expect they can always do it — what I shall 
do next I know not, being naked for clothes and void 
of money, and winter present, and provisions very 
skerce ; fresh meat one shilling per pound, Butter three 
shillings per pound, Cheese two shillings, Turnips and 
potatoes at a shilling a half peck, milk 15 Coppers per 
quart, bread equally as dear; and the General says he 
cant find us fuel thro' the winter, tho' at present we 
receive sum cole.* 

"I was after put on board siezed violently with the 
disentarry — it followed me hard upwards of six weeks 
— after that a slow fever, but now am vastly better 
* * * my sincere love to you and my children. May 
God keep and preserve you at all times from sin, 
sickness, and death * * * I will Endeavor to faintly 
lead you into the poor cituation the soldiers are in, 
espechally those taken at Long Island where I was ; in 
fact these cases are deplorable and they are Real ob- 
jects of pitty — they are still confined and in houses 
where there is no fire — poor mortals, with little or no 

*I have made no changes in this letter except to fill up 
some blanks and to add a few marks of punctuation. 



30 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

clothes — perishing with hunger, offering eight dollars 
in paper for one in silver to Relieve there distressing 
hunger; occasioned for want of food — there natures 
are broke and gone, some almost loose there voices and 
some there hearing — they are crouded into churches & 
there guarded night and day. I cant paint the horable 
appearance they make — it is shocking to human nature 
to behold them. Could I draw the curtain from before 
you; there expose to your view a lean Jawd mortal, 
hunger laid his skinny hand (upon him) and whet to 
keenest Edge his stomach cravings, sorounded with 
tattred garments. Rotten Rags, close beset with un- 
welcome vermin. Could I do this, I say, possable I 
might in some (small) manner fix your idea with what 
appearance sum hundreds of these poor creatures make 
in houses where once people attempted to Implore 
God's Blessings, &c, but I must say no more of there 
calamities. God be merciful to them — I cant afford 
them no Relief. If I had money I soon would do it, 
but I have none for myself. — I wrote to you by Mr. 
Wells to see if some one would help me to hard money 
under my present necessity I write no more, if I had 
the General would not allow it to go out, & if ever you 
write to me write very short or else I will never see it 
— what the heshens robbed me of that day amounted 
to the value of seventy two dollars at least. * * * I 
will give you as near an exact account of how many 
prisoners the enemy have taken as I can. They took on 
Long Island of the Huntingon Regiment 64, and of 
officers 40, of other Regiments about 60. On Moulo- 
gin Island 14, Stratton Island (Staten) 7, at Fort 
Washington 2200 officers and men. On the Jersey 
side about 28 officers and men. In all 3135 and how 
many killed I do not know. Many died of there 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 31 

wounds. Of those that went out with me of sickness 
occasioned by hunger eight and more He at the point 
of death. 

"Roger Filer hath lost one of his legs and part of a 
Thigh, it was his left. John Moody died here a pris- 
oner. 

"So now to conclude my little Ragged History 
* * * I as you know did ever impress on your mind 
to look to God, for so still I continue to do the same — 
think less of me but more of your Creator, * * * 
So in this I wish you well and bid you farewell and 
subscribe myself your nearest friend and well wisher 
for Ever 

John'a Gillett 

New York, Dec. 2nd, 1776. 
To Eliza Gillett at West Harford 

The figures given in this pathetic letter may be in- 
accurate, but the description of the sufferings of the 
prisoners is unexaggerated. Of all the places of tor- 
ment provided for these poor men the churches seem 
to have been the worst, and they were probably the 
scenes of the most brutal cruelty that was inflicted 
upon these unfortunate beings by the wicked and heart- 
less men, in whose power they found themselves. 
Whether it was because the knowledge that they were 
thus desecrating buildings dedicated to the worship of 
God and instruction in the Christian duties of mercy 
and charity, had a peculiarly hardening effect upon the 
jailers and guards employed by the British, or whether 
it was merely because of their unfitness for human 
habitation the men confined in these buildings perished 
fast and miserably. We cannot assert that no prisoners 
shut up in the churches in New York lived to tell the 



32 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

awful tale of their sufferings, but we do assert that in 
all our researches we have never yet happened upon any 
record of a single instance of a survivor living to reach 
his home. All the information we have gained on this 
subject we shall lay before the reader, and then he may 
form his own opinion of the justice of these remarks. 



CHAPTER V 
WiiyiviAM Cunningham, the Provost Marshal 

WE WILL condense all that we have to say of this 
man, whose cruelty and wickedness are almost 
inconceivable, into one chapter, and have done with the 
dreadful subject. As far as we have been able to learn, 
the facts about his life are the following. 

William Cunningham was an Irishman, born in Dub- 
lin Barracks in 1738. His father was a trumpeter in 
the Blue Dragoons. When he was sixteen he became 
an assistant to the riding-master of the troop. In 1761 
he was made a sergeant of dragoons, but peace having 
been proclaimed the following year, the company to 
which he belonged was disbanded. He afterwards 
commenced the business of a scaw-banker, M^hich means 
that he went about the country enticing mechanics and 
rustics to ship to America, on promise of having their 
fortunes made in that country ; and then by artful prac- 
tices, produced their indentures as servants, in con- 
sequence of which on their arrival in America they 
were sold, or at least obliged to serve a term of years 
to pay for their passage. This business, no doubt, 
proved a fit apprenticeship for the career of villainy 
before him. 

About the year 1774 he appears to have embarked 
from Newry in the ship Needham for New York, with 
some indentured servants he had kidnapped in Ireland. 
He is said to have treated these poor creatures so 
cruelly on the passage that they were set free by the 
authorities in New York upon their arrival. 

When Cunningham first appeared in New York he 
oflfered himself as a horse-breaker, and insinuated him- 
—3 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 

aelf into the favor of the British officers by blatant 
toryism. He soon became obnoxious to the Whigs of 
that city, was mobbed, and fled to the Asia man-of-war 
for protection. From thence he went to Boston, where 
General Gage appointed him Provost Marshal. When 
the British took possession of New York he followed 
them to that city, burning with desire to be revenged 
upon the Whigs. 

He is said to have compassed the death of thousands 
of prisoners by selling their provisions, exchanging 
good for spoiled food, and even by poisoning them. 
Many also fell victims to his murderous violence. 
About two hundred and fifty of these poor creatures 
were taken out of their places of confinement at mid- 
night and hung, without trial, simply to gratify his 
bloodthirsty instincts. Private execution was con- 
ducted in the following manner. A guard was first 
dispatched from the Provost, about midnight, to the 
upper barracks, to order the people on the line of march 
to shut their window shutters and put out their lights, 
forbidding them at the same time to presume to look 
out of their windows on pain of death. After this the 
prisoners were gagged, and conducted to the gallows 
just behind the upper barracks and hung without cere- 
mony there. Afterwards they were buried by his as- 
sistant, who was a mulatto. 

This practice is said to have been stopped by the 
women along the line of march from the Provost to the 
barracks. They appealed to General Howe to prevent 
further executions, as the noise made by the sufferers 
praying for mercy, and appealing to Heaven for justice 
was dreadful to their ears. 

It would seem from this account that, although the 
wretched men were gagged as they were conveyed 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 3t 

along the streets, their ferocious murderer could not 
deny himself the pleasure of hearing their shrieks of 
agony at the gallows. 

Watson, in his ^'Annals of New York," says that 
Cunningham glutted his vengence by hanging five or six 
of his prisoners every night, until the women who 
lived in the neighborhood petitioned Howe to have the 
practice discontinued. 

A pamphlet called "The Old Martyrs' Prison," says 
of Cunningham : **His hatred of the Americans found 
vent in torture by searing irons and secret scourges to 
those v/ho fell under the ban of his displeasure. The 
prisoners were crowded together so closely that many 
fell ill from partial asphyxiation, and starved to death 
for want of the food which he sold to enrich himself." 

They were given muddy and impure water to drink, 
and that not in sufficient quantities to sustain life. 
Their allowance was, nominally, two pounds of hard 
tack and two of pork per week, and this was often un- 
cooked, while either the pork, or the biscuit, or both, 
were usually spoiled and most unwholesome. 

Cunningham's quarters were in the Provost Prison, 
and on the right hand of the main door of entry. On 
the left of the hall was the guard room. Within the 
first barricade was the apartment of his assistant, Ser- 
geant O'Keefe. Two sentinels guarded the entrance 
day and night ; two more were stationed at the first and 
second barricades, which were grated, barred, and 
chained. 

''When a prisoner was led into the hall the whole 
guard was paraded, and he was delivered over to Cap- 
tain Cunningham or his deputy, and questioned as to his 
name, age, size, rank, etc., all of which was entered 
in a record book. These records appear to have been 
discreetly destroyed by the British authorities. 



36 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

"At the bristling of arms, unbolting of locks and 
bars, clanking of enormous iron chains in a vestibule 
dark as Erebus, the unfortunate captive might well 
sink under this infernal sight and parade of tyranni- 
cal power, as he crossed the threshold of that door 
which probably closed on him for life. 

"The north east chamber, turning to the left on the 
second floor, was appropriated to officers of superior 
rank, and was called Congress Hall. * * * In the 
day time the packs and blankets used by the prisoners 
to cover them were suspended around the walls, and 
every precaution was taken to keep the rooms clean 
and well ventilated. 

"In this gloomy abode were incarcerated at different 
periods many American officers and citizens of distinc- 
tion, awaiting with sickening hope the protracted pe- 
riod of their liberation. Could these dumb walls speak 
what scenes of anguish might they not disclose ! 

"Cunningham and his deputy were enabled to fare 
sumptuously by dint of curtailing the prisoners' ra- 
tions, selling good for bad provisions, etc., in order to 
provide for the drunken orgies that usually terminated 
his dinners. Cunningham would order the rebel pris- 
oners to turn out and parade for the amusement of his 
guests, pointing them out with such characterizations 

as 'This is the d d rebel, Ethan Allen. This is a 

rebel judge, etc' " 

Cunningham destroyed Nathan Hale's last letters 
containing messages to his loved ones, in order, as he 
said, that "the rebels should not know that they had a 
man in their army who could die with such firmness." 

From Elias Boudinot's "Journal of Events" during 
the Revolution we extract the following account of his 
interview with Cunningham in New York. "In the 



American Prisoners of the Revolution Z7 

spring of 1777 General Washington wrote me a letter 
requesting me to accept of a Commission as Commis- 
sary General of Prisoners in the Army of America. 
I waited on him and politely declined the task, urging 
the wants of the Prisoners and having nothing to sup- 
ply them." 

Washington, however, urged him not to refuse, say- 
ing that if no one in whom -he could trust would ac- 
cept the office, the lot of the prisoners would be doubly 
hard. At last Boudinot consented to fill the position 
as best he could, and Washington declared that he 
should be suppHed with funds by the Secret Commit- 
tee of Congress. *'I own," he says, "that after I had 
entered on my department, the applications of the Pris- 
oners were so numerous, and their distress so urgent, 
that I exerted every nerve to obtain supplies, but in 
vain — Excepting £600 I had received from the Secret 
Committee in Bills of exchange, at my first entrance 
into the Office — I could not by any means get a farth- 
ing more, except in Continental Money, which was of 
no avail in New York. I applied to the General de- 
scribing my delicate Situation and the continual appli- 
cation of the Officers, painting their extreme distress 
and urging the assurance they had received that on my 
appointment I was to be furnished with adequate means 
for their full relief. The General appeared greatly 
distressed and assured me that it was out of his power 
to afford me any suppHes. I proposed draining Cloth- 
ing from the public stores, but to this he objected as 
not having anything like a sufficient supply for the 
Army. He urged my considering and adopting the best 
means in my power to satisfy the necessities of the 
Prisoners, and he would confirm them. I told him I 
knew of no means in my Power but to take what 



38 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

Monies I had of my own, and to borrow from my 
friends in New York, to accomplish the desirable pur- 
pose. He greatly encouraged me to the attempt, prom- 
ising me that if I finally met with any loss, he would 
divide it with me. On this I began to afford them some 
supplies of Provisions over and above what the Enemy 
afforded them, which was very small and very indiffer- 
ent. 

"The complaints of the very cruel treatment our 
Prisoners met with in the Enemy's lines rose to such 
a Heighth that in the Fall of this Year, 1777 the Gen- 
eral wrote to General Howe or Clinton reciting there 
complaints and proposing to send an Officer into New 
York to examine into the truth of them. This was 
agreed to, and a regular pass-port returned accordingly. 
The General ordered me on this service. I accordingly 
went over on the 3rd of Feb. 1778, in my own Sloop." 

The Commandant at this time was General Robert- 
son, by whom Boudinot was very well treated, and al- 
lowed, in company with a British officer, to visit the 
prisons. He continues : "Accordingly I went to the 
Provost with the Officer, where we found near thirty 
Officers from Colonels downwards, in close confine- 
ment in the Gaol in New York. After some conversa- 
tion with the late Ethan Allen, I told him my errand, 
on which he was very free in his abuse of the British. 
* * * We then proceeded upstairs to the Room of their 
Confinement. I had the Officers drawn up in a Ring 
and informed them of my mission, that I was deter- 
mined to hear nothing in secret, That I therefore hoped 
they would each of them in their turn report to rne 
faithfully and candidly the Treatment they severally 
had received, — that my design was to obtain them the 
proper redress, but if they kept back anything from 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 39 

an improper fear of their keepers, they would have 
themselves only to blame for their want of immediate 
redress. That for the purpose of their deliverance 
the British officer attended. That the British General 
should be also well informed of the Facts. On this, 
after some little hesitation from a dread of their 
keeper, the Provost martial, one of them began and in- 
formed us that * * * some had been confined in the 
Dungeon for a night to await the leisure of the Gen- 
eral to examine them and forgot for months ; for be- 
ing Committee men, &c, &c. That they had received 
the most cruel Treatment from the Provost Martial, be- 
ing looked up in the Dungeon on the most trifling pre- 
tences, such as asking for more water, to drink on a 
hot day than usual — for sitting up a little longer in 
the Evening than orders allowed — for writing a 
letter to the General making their Complaints of ill- 
usage and throwing (it) out of the Windows. That 
some of them were kept ten, twelve, and fourteen 
weeks in the Dungeon on these trifling Pretenses A 
Captain Vandyke had been- confined eighteen months 
for being concerned in setting fire to the City, When, 
on my calling for the Provost Books, it appeared that 
he had been made Prisoner and closely confined in the 
Provost four days before the fire happened. A Major 
Paine had been confined eleven months for killing a 
Captain Campbell in the Engagement when he was 
taken Prisoner, when on examination it appeared that 
the Captain had been killed in another part of the Ac- 
tion. The charge was that Major Paine when taken 
had no commission, though acknowledged by us as a 
Major. 

"Most of the cases examined into turned out wholly 
false or too trifling to be regarded. It also appeared 



40 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

by the Declaration of some of the Gentlemen that 
their water would be sometimes, as the Caprice of the 
Provost Martial led him, brought up to them in the 
tubs they used in their Rooms, and when the weather 
was so hot that they must drink or perish. On hear- 
ing a number of these instances of Cruelty, I asked 
who was the Author of them — they answered the pro- 
vost keeper — I desired the Officer to call him up that 
we might have him face to face. He accordingly 
came in, and on being informed of what had passed, 
he was asked if the complaints were true. He, with 
great Insolence answered that every word was true — 
on which the British Officer, abusing him very much, 
asked him how he dared to treat Gentlemen in that 
cruel Manner. He, insolently putting his hands to his 
side, swore that he was as absolute there as General 
Howe was at the head of his Army. I observed to the 
Officer that now there could be no dispute about Facts, 
as the fellow had acknowledged every word to be true. 
I stated all the Facts in substance and waited again on 
General Robertson, who hoped I was quite satisfied 
with the falsity of the reports I had heard. I then 
stated to him the Facts and assured him that they 
turned out worse than anything we had heard. On his 
hesitating as to the truth of this assertion — I observed 
to him the propriety of having an Officer with me, to 
whom I now appealed for the truth of the Facts. He 
being present confirmed them — on which the General 
expressed great dissatisfaction, and promised that the 
Author of them should be punished. I insisted that the 
Officers should be discharged from his Power on Parole 
on Long Island, as other Officers were — To this after 
receiving from me a copy of the Facts I had taken 
down, he assented, & all were discharged except seven, 



American Prisoners of the Revoi^ution 41 

who were detained some time before I could obtain 
their release. I forgot to mention that one Officer, Lieu- 
tenant was taken Prisoner and brought in with a 

wound through the leg. He was sent to the Provost to 
be examined, next night he was put into the Dungeon 
and remained there ten weeks, totally forgotten by the 
General, and never had his wound dressed except as he 
washed it with a little Rum and Water given to him by 

the Centinels, through the hole out of their own 

rations. Captain and a Captain Chatham were 

confined with them and their allowance was four 
pounds hard spoiled Biscuit, and two pounds Pork per 
week, which they were obliged to eat raw. While they 
were thus confined for the slightest Complaints, the 
Provost Martial would come down and beat them un- 
mercifully with a Rattan, and Knock them down with 
his fist. After this I visited two Hospitals of our 
Sick Prisoners, and the Sugar House : — in the two 
first were 211 Prisoners, and in the last about 190. 
They acknowledged that for about two months past 
they fared pretty well, being allowed two pounds of 
good Beef and a proportion of flour or Bread per week, 
by Mr. Lewis, My Agent, over and above the allow- 
ance received from the British, which was professed to 
be two thirds allowance ; but before they had suffered 
m,uch from the small allowance they had received, and 
and that their Bread was very bad, being mostly bis- 
cuit, but that the British soldiers made the same com- 
plaint as to the bread. From every account I received 
I found that their treatment had been greatly changed 
for the better within a few months past, except at the 
Provost. They all agreed that previous to the capture 
of General Burgoyne, and for some time after, Their 
treatment had been cruel beyond measure. That the 



42 American Prisoners of the Revoi.ution 

Prisoners in the French church, amounting on an aver- 
age to three or four hundred, could not all lay down at 
once, that from the 15th October to the first January 
they never received a single stick of wood, and that 
for the most part they eat their Pork Raw, when the 
Pews and Door, and Wood on Facings failed them 
for fuel. 

"But as to my own personal knowledge I found Gen- 
eral Robertson very ready to agree to every measure 
for alleviating the miseries of War and very candidly 
admitted many faults committed by the inferior Of- 
ficers, and even the mistakes of the General himself, by 
hearkening to the representations of those around him. 
He showed me a letter from General Howe who was in 
Philadelphia, giving orders that we should not be at 
liberty to purchase blankets within their Hues, and con- 
taining a copy of an order I had issued that they should 
not purchase provisions within ours, by way of retalia- 
tion, but he represented it as if my order was first. I 
stated the facts to General Robertson, who assured me 
that General Howe had been imposed upon, and re- 
quested me to state the facts by way of letter, when he 
immediately wrote to General Howe, urging the pro- 
priety of reversing his orders, which afterwards he did 
in a very hypocritical manner as will appear hereafter." 

It does not seem that Cunningham was very se- 
riously punished. It is probable that he was sent away 
from New York to Philadelphia, then in the hands of 
General Howe. Cunningham was Provost Marshal in 
that city during the British occupancy, where his cruel- 
ties were, if possible, more astrocious than ever before. 

Dr. Albigense Waldo was a surgeon in the American 
army at Valley Forge, and he declares in his Journal 
concerning the prisoners in Philadelphia that "the Brit- 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 43 

ish did not knock the prisoners in the head, or burn 
them with torches, or flay them ahve, or dismember 
them as savages do, but they starved them slowly in a 
large and prosperous city. One of these unhappy men, 
driven to the last extreme of hunger, is said to have 
gnawed his own fingers to the first joint from the hand, 
before he expired. Others ate the mortar and stone 
which they chipped from the prison walls, while some 
were found with bits of wood and clay in their mouths, 
which in their death agonies they had sucked to find 
nourishment."* 

Boudinot has something to say about these wretched 
sufferers in the City of Brotherly Love during the 
months of January and February, 1778. ''Various Re- 
ports having reached us with regard to the Extreme 
Sufferings of our Prisoners in Philadelphia, I was di- 
rected by the Commander-in-Chief to make particular 
inquiry into the truth. After some time I obtained full 
Information of their Suft^erings. It was proved by 
some Militia of good Character that on being taken 
they were put under the care of the General's Guard, 
and kept four or five days without the least food. That 
on the fifth day they were taken into the Provost, where 
a small quantity of Raw Pork was given to them. One 
of their number seized and devoured it with so much 
eagerness that he dropped down dead : — * that the 
Provost Martial used to sell their provisions and leave 
them to starve, as he did their Allowance of Wood. I 
received information from a British Officer who con- 
fided in my integrity, that he happened in the Provost 
just at the time the Provost Martial was locking up 

*This account is quoted by Mr. Bolton in a recent 
book called "The Private Soldier under Washington," a 
valuable contribution to American history. 



44 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

the Prisoners. He had ordered them from the Yard into 
the House. Some of them being ill with the Dysentery 
could scarcely walk, and for not coming faster he would 
beat them with his Rattan. One being * * * delayed 
longer than the rest. On his coming up Cunningham 
gave him a blow with one of the large Keys of the 
Goal which killed him on the Spot. The Officer, ex- 
ceedingly affected with the sight, went next day and 
lodged a formal Complaint of the Murder with Gen- 
eral Howe's Aid. After waiting some days, and not 
discovering any measures taken for the tryal of Cun- 
ningham, he again went to head quarters and requested 
to see the General, but was refused. He repeated his 
Complaint to his Aid, and told him if this passed un- 
punished it would become disreputable to wear a Brit- 
ish uniform. No notice being taken the Officer deter- 
mined to furnish me privately with the means of proof 
of the Facts, so that General Washington might re- 
monstrate to General Howe on the subject: — I re- 
ported them with the other testimony I had collected 
to General Washington. He accordingly wrote in 
pretty strong Terms to General Howe and fixed a day, 
when if he did not receive a satisfactory answer, he 
wQuld retaliate on the prisoners in his Custody. On 
the day he received an answer from General Howe, 
acknowledging that, on Examination he found that 
Cunningham had sold the Prisoners' rations publicly in 
the Market. That he had therefor removed him from 
the Charge of the Prisoners and appointed Mr. Henry 
H. Ferguson in his place. This gave us great pleasure 
as we knew Mr. Ferguson to be a Gentleman of Char- 
acter and great Humanity, and the issue justified our 
expectations. But to our great surprise Mr. Cunning- 
ham was only removed from the Charge of the Prisons 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 45 

in Philadelphia, and sent to that of New York. Soon 
after this great complaints being made of our Pris- 
oners being likely to perish for want of Cloathing and 
Blankets, having been mostly stripped and robbed of 
their Cloaths when taken, application was made for 
permission to purchase (with the provisions which the 
British wanted,) Blankets and cloathing, which should 
be used only by the Prisoners while in Confinement. 
This was agreed to, as we were informed by our own 
Agent as well as by the British Commissioner. Pro- 
visions were accordingly attempted to be sent in, when 
General Howe pretending to ignorance in the business, 
forbid the provisions to be admitted, or the Blankets 
to be purchased. On this I gave notice to the British 
Commissary that after a certain day they must provide 
food for their prisoners south west of New Jersey, 
and to be sent in from their lines, as they should no 
longer be allowed to purchase provisions with us. The 
line drawn arose from our being at liberty to purchase 
in New York. This made a great noise, when Gen- 
eral Howe on receiving General Robertson's letter 
from New York before mentioned, urging the pro- 
priety of the measures, issued an order that every 
Person in Philadelphia, who had a Blanket to sell or to 
spare should bring them into the King's Stores. When 
this was done he then gave my Agent permission to 
purchase Blankets and Cloathing, in the City of Phila- 
delphia. On my Agent attempting it he found every 
Blanket in the City purchased by the Agents for the 
Army, so that not a Blanket could be had. My Agent 
knowing the necessities of our Prisoners, immediately 
employed persons in every part of the city and before 
General Howe could discover his own omission, pur- 
chased up every piece of flannel he could meet with, 



46 American Prisoners of the RkvOi.ution 

and made it up into a kind of Blanket, which answered 
our purpose." 

Wherever General Howe and Cunningham were 
together, either in New York or in Philadelp.hia, the 
most atrocious cruelties were inflicted upon the Amer- 
ican prisoners in their power, and yet some have en- 
deavoured to excuse General Howe, on what grounds 
it is difficult to determine. It has been said that Cun- 
ningham acted on higher authority than any in Amer- 
ica, and that Howe in vain endeavored to mitigate the 
sufferings of the prisoners. This, however, is not 
easy of belief. Howe must at least have wilfully 
blinded himself to the wicked and murderous violence 
of his subordinate. It was his duty to know how the 
prisoners at his mercy fared, and not to employ mur- 
derers to destroy them by the thousands as they were 
destroyed in the prisons of New York and Philadel- 
phia. 

Oliver Bunce, in His "Romance of the Revolution," 
thus speaks of the inhumanity of Cunningham. 

*'But of all atrocities those committed in the prisons 
and prison ships of New York are the most execrable, 
and indeed there is nothing in history to excel the bar- 
barities there inflicted. Twelve thousand suffered 
death by their inhuman, cruel, savage, and barbarous 
usage on board the filthy and malignant prison ships 
* * * adding those who died and were poisoned in the 
infected prisons in the city a much larger number 
would be necessary to include all those who suffered 
by command of British Generals in New York. The 
scenes enacted in these prisons almost exceed belief. 
"^ * * Cunningham, the like of whom, for unpitying, re- 
lentless cruelty, the world has not produced, * * * 
thirsted for blood, and took an eager delight in mur- 
der." 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 47 

He remained in New York until November, 1783, 
when he embarked on board a British man-of-war and 
America was no longer cursed with his presence. He 
is said to have been hung for the crime of forgery on 
the tenth of August, 1791. The newspapers of the day 
contained the accounts of his death, and his dying con- 
fession. These accounts have, however, been discred- 
ited by historians who have in vain sought the English 
records for the date of his death. It is said that no 
man of the name of Cunningham was hung in England 
in the year 1791. It is not possible to find any official 
British record of his transactions while Provost Mar- 
shal, and there seems a mystery about the disappear- 
ance of his books kept while in charge of the Provost, 
quite as great as the mystery which envelopes his death. 
But whether or no he confessed his many crimes ; 
whether or no he received in this world a portion of the 
punishment he deserved, it is certain that the crimes 
were committed, and duly recorded in the judgment 
book of God, before whose awful bar he has been called 
to account for every one of them. 



I 



CHAPTER VI 
The Case of Jabez Fitch 

N PRESENTING our gleanings from the books, 
papers, letters, pamphlets, and other documents 
that have been written on the subject of our prisoners 
during the Revolution, we will endeavor to follow some 
chronological order, so that we may carry the story on 
month by month and year by year until that last day of 
the British possession of New York when Sergeant 
O'Keefe threw down upon the pavement of the Prov- 
ost the keys of that prison, and made his escape on 
board a British man-of-war. 

One of the prisoners taken on Long Island in the 
summer of 1776 was Captain Jabez Fitch, who was 
captured on the 27th of August, of that year. While a 
prisoner he contracted a scorbutic affection which ren- 
dered miserable thirty years of his life. 

On the 29th of xA^ugust he was taken to the transport 
Pacific. It was a very rainy day. The officers, of 
whom there were about twenty-five, were in one boat, 
and the men "being between three and four hundred 
in several other Boats, and had their hands tied behind 
them. In this Situation we were carried by several 
Ships, where there appeared great numbers of Women 
on Deck, who were very liberal of their Curses and Ex- 
ecrations : they were also not a little Noisy in their In- 
sults, but clap'd their hands and used other pecuHar 
gestures in so Extraordinary a Manner yt they were 
in some Danger of leaping overboard in this surprising 
Extacy." On arriving at the Pacific, a very large 
transport ship, they were told that all officers and men 
together were to be shut down below deck. The mas- 



American Prisoners of the Revoi^ution 49 

ter of the ship was a brute named Dunn. At sundown 
all were driven down the hatches, with curses and exe- 
crations. "Both ye lower Decks were very full of 
Hurt," and the rains had leaked in and made a dread- 
ful sloppy mess of the floor, so that the mud was half 
over their shoes. At the same time they were so 
crowded that only half their number could lie down at 
a time. 

"Some time in the Evening a number of the Infernal 
Savages came down with a lanthorn and loaded two 
small pieces of Cannon with Grape shot, which were 
pointed through two Ports in such a manner as to Rake 
ye deck where our people lay, telling us at ye same 
time with many Curses yt in Case of any Disturbance 
or the least noise in ye Night, they were to be Imedi- 
ately fired on ye Damned Rebels." When allowed to 
come on deck "we were insulted by those Blackguard 
Villians in the most vulgar manner. ^ * * We were 
allowed no water that was fit for a Beast to Drink, al- 
though they had plenty of good Water on board, which 
was used plentifully by the Seamen, etc. 

"Lieutenant Dowdswell, with a party of Marines 
sent on board for our Guard; this Mr. Dowdswell 
treated us with considerable humanity, and appeared 
to be a Gentleman, nor were the Marines in General so 
Insolent as the Ships Crew. * * * On the 31st 
the Commissary of Prisoners came on Board and took 
down the names, etc, of the prisoners. * >i< * j^^ 
told us Colonel Clark and many other Officers were con- 
fined at Flatbush. On Sunday, September 1st, we were 
removed to the ship Lord Rochf ord, commanded by 
one Lambert. This ship was much crowded. Most of 
the Officers were lodged on the quarter deck. Some 
nights we were considerably wet with rain." 
—4 



50 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

The Lord Rochford lay off New Utrecht. On the 
third of September the officers that had been con- 
fined at Flatbush were brought on board the snow 
called the- Mentor. ''On the fifth," says Fitch, in 
his written account, of which this is an abstract, "we 
were removed on board this Snow, which was our 
prison for a long time. * * * We were about 90 in 
number, and ye Field Officers had Liberty of ye Cab- 
bin, etc. * * * This Snow was commanded by one 
Davis, a very worthless, low-lived fellow. * * * 
When we first met on board the Mentor we spent a 
considerable time in Relating to each other ye par- 
ticular Circumstances of our first being Taken, and 
also ye various Treatment with which we met on yt 
occasion, nor was this a disagreeable Entertainment 
in our Melancholy Situation. * * * Many of the 
officers and men were almost Destitute of Clothes, 
several having neither Britches, Stockings or Shoes, 
many of them when first taken were stripped entirely 
naked. Corporal Raymond of the 17th Regiment after 
being taken and Stripped was shamefully insulted 
and Abused by Gen'l Dehightler, seized by ye Hair 
of his head, thrown on the ground, etc. Some present, 
who had some small degree of humanity in their 
Composition, were so good as to favor them (the 
prisoners) with some old durty worn Garments, 
just sufficient to cover their nakedness, and in this 
Situation (they) were made Objects of Ridicule for 
ye Diversion of those Foreign Butchers. 

"One Sam Talman (an Indian fellow belonging to 
the 17th Regiment) was Stripped and set up as a 
mark for them to Shoot at for Diversion or Prac- 
tice, by which he Received two severe wounds, in the 
neck and arm * * * afterwards they destroyed 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 51 

him with many hundreds others by starvation in the 
prisons of New York. 

"On October first orders came to land the prison- 
ers in New York. This was not done until the sev- 
enth. On Monday about four o'clock Mr. Loring 
conducted us to a very large house on the West side 
of Broadway in the corner south of Warren Street 
near Bridewell, where we were assigned a small yard 
back of the house, and a Stoop in ye Front for our 
Walk. We were also Indulged with Liberty to pass 
and Repass to an adjacent pump in Ye Street." 

Although paroled the officers were closely confined 
in this place for six weeks. Their provisions, he 
says : "w^ere insufficient to preserve ye Connection 
between Soul and Body, yet ye Charitable People of 
this City were so good as to afford us very consider- 
able Relief on this account, but it was ye poor and 
those who were in low circumstances only who were 
thoughtful of our Necessities, and provisions were 
now grown scarce and Excessive dear. ^ ^ ^ 
Their unparalleled generosity was undoubtedly ye 
happy means of saving many Lives, notwithstanding 
such great numbers perished with hunger. 

"Here we found a number of Officers made pris- 
oners since we were, Colonel Selden, Colonel 
Moulton, etc. They were first confined in Ye City 
Hall. Colonel Selden died the Fryday after we ar- 
rived. He was Buried in the New Brick Church- 
yard, and most of the Officers were allowed to at- 
tend his Funeral. Dr. Thatcher of the British army 
attended him, a man of great humanity." 

Captain Fitch declares that there were two thou- 
sand wounded British and Hessians in the hospitals 
in New York after the battle of Fort Washington, 



52 American Prisoners of the Revoi^ution 

which is a much larger estimate than we have found 
in other accounts. He says that the day of the bat- 
tle was Saturday, November 16th, and that the pris- 
oners wegre not brought to New York until the Mon- 
day following. They were then confined in the 
Bridewell, as the City Jail was then called, and in 
several churches. Some of them were soon after- 
wards sent on board a prison ship, which was prob- 
ably the Whitby. *'A number of the officers were 
sent to our place of confinement; Colonel . Rawlings, 
Colonel Hobby, Major (Otho) Williams, etc. Raw- 
lings and Williams were wounded, others were also 
wounded, among them Lieutenant Hanson (a 
young Gent'n from Va.) who was Shot through ye 
Shoulder with a Musq't Ball of which wound he 
Died ye end of Dec'r. 

"Many of ye charitable Inhabitants were denied 
admittance when they came to Visit us." 

On the twentieth of November most of the officers 
were set at liberty on parole. *'Ye first Objects of our 
attention were ye poor men who had been unhappily 
Captivated with us. They had been landed about 
ye same time yt we were, and confined in several 
Churches and other large Buildings and although we 
had often Received Intelligence from them with ye 
most Deplorable Representation of their Miserable 
Situation, yet when we came to visit them we found 
their sufiferings vastly superior to what we had been 
able to conceive. Nor are words suffxcient to convey 
an Adequate Idea of their Unparalled Calamity. 
"Well might ye Prophet say, 'They yt be slain with ye 
sword are better than they yt be slain with hunger, 
for these pine away, etc' 

"Their appearance in general Rather Resembled 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 53 

dead Corpses than living men. Indeed great numbers 
had already arrived at their long home, and ye Re- 
mainder appeared far advanced on ye same Journey: 
their accomimodations were in all respects vastly In- 
ferior to what a New England Farmer would have 
provided for his Cattle, and although ye Commissary 
pretended to furnish them with two thirds of ye al- 
lowance of ye King's Troops, yet they were cheated 
out of one half of that. They were many times en- 
tirely neglected from Day to Day, and received no 
Provision at all ; they w^ere also frequently Imposed 
upon in Regard to ye Quality as well as Quantity of 
their provision. Especially in the Necessary article 
of Bread of which they often received such Rotten 
and mouldy stuff, as was entirely unfit for use. 

"* * * ^ large number of ye most feeble were 
Removed down to ye Quaker Meeting House on 
Queen Street, where many hundreds of them per- 
ished in a m.uch more miserable Situation than ye 
dumb Beasts, while those whose particular business 
it was to provide them relief, paid very little or 
no attention to their unparalleled suft'erings. This 
house I understand was under ye Superintendence 
of one Dr. Dibuke ^ =^ * -vvho had been at least 
once convicted of stealing (in Europe) and had fled 
to this country for protection : It was said he often 
made application of his Cane among ye Sick instead 
of other medicines. * * * j i^^ve often been in 
danger of being stabbed for attempting to speak to a 
prisoner in ye yard. * ^ * 

"About the 24th December a large number of pris- 
oners were embarked on a ship to be sent to New 
England. What privates of the 17th Regiment re- 
mained Hving were Included in this number, but 



54 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

about one half had already perished in Prison. I 
was afterwards informed that the Winds being un- 
favourable and their accommodations and provisions 
on board ye Ship being very similar to what they had 
been provided with before, a large proportion of 
them perished before they could reach New England, 
so that it is to be feared very few of them lived to 
see their native homes. 

"Soon after there was large numbers of the pris- 
oners sent off by land both to the Southward and 
Eastward so yt when ye Officers were Removed over 
into Long Island in the latter part of January there 
remained but very few of the privates in that City 
except those released by Death which number was 
supposed to be about 1800. 

"General Robertson, so famous for Politeness and 
Humanity was commanding Officer at New York 
during the aforesaid treatment of the prisoners. 
Governor Scheene was said to have visited the pris- 
oners at the Churches and manifested great dissatis- 
faction at their 111 Usage, yet I was never able to 
learn that ye poor Sufferers Rec'd any Advantage 
thereby." 

Captain Jabez Fitch was a prisoner eighteen 
months. After the Revolution he lived in Vermont, 
where he died in 1812. 



CHAPTER VII 

The Hospital Doctor — A Tory's Account of 

New York in 1777 — Ethan Allen's 

Account of the Prisoners 

THE doctor spoken of by Jabez Fitch as Dn 
Dibuke is perhaps the notorious character de- 
scribed by Mr. EHas Boudinot in the Journal from 
which we have already quoted. On page 35 of this 
book he gives us the following: 

"an account of the frenchman who poisoned 

american prisoners in new york, and 

was rewarded for so doing by 

general howe 

"When the British Army took possession of New 
York they found a Frenchman in Goal, under Con- 
demnation for Burglery and Robbery. He was 
liberated. He was a very loos, ignorant man. Had 
been a Servant. This fellow was set over our Pris- 
oners in the Hospital, as a Surgeon, though he knew 
not the least principle of the Art. Dr. McHenry, a 
Physician of note in the American Army, and then 
a Prisoner, finding the extreme ignorance of this 
man, and that he was really murdering our people, 
remonstrated to the British Director of the Hospital, 
and refused visiting our sick Prisoners if this man 
was not dismissed. A British Officer, convinced that 
he had killed several of our People, lodged a com- 
plaint against him, when he was ordered to be tryed 
by a Court Martial, but the morning before the 
Court were to set, this Officer was ordered off to 
St Johns, and the Criminal was discharged for want 
of Evidence. During this man having the Charge of 



56 American Prisoners of the Revoi^ution 

our Prisoners in the Hospital, two of our Men de- 
serted from the Hospital and came into our Army 
when they were ordered to me for Examination. 
They Joined in this story. That they were sick in 
the Hospital under the care of the above Frenchman. 
That he came and examined them, and gave to each 
of them a dose of Physick to be taken immediately. 
A Young Woman, their Nurse, made them some 
■private signs not to take the Physick immediately. 
After the Doctor was gone, she told them she sus- 
pected the Powder was poison. That she had sev- 
eral times heard this Frenchman say that he would 
have ten Rebels dead in such a Room and five dead 
in such a Room the next morning, and it always so 
happened. They asked her what they should do: 
She told them their only chance was to get off, sick 
as they were, that she would help them out and they 
must shift for themselves. They accordingly got off 
safe, and brought the Physick with them. This was 
given to a Surgeon's Mate, who afterwards reported ^ 
that he gave it to a Dog, and that he died in a very | 
short time. I afterwards saw an account in a London ' 
Paper of this same Frenchman being taken up in 
England for some Crime and condemned to dye. At 
his Execution he acknowledged the fact of his having 
murdered a great number of Rebels in the Hospitals 
at New York by poyson. That on his reporting to 
General Howe the number of the Prisoners dead, he 
raised his pay. He further confessed that he poi- 
soned the wells used by the American Flying Camp, 
which caused such an uncommon MortaHty among 
them in the year 1776." 

Jabez Fitch seems to have been mistaken in think- 
ing that General Robertson instead of Lord Howe 
was commanding in New York at this time. 



American Prisoners of the Revoi^ution 57 

We will now give the account written by a Tory 
gentleman, who lived in New York during a part of 
the Revolution, of Loring, the Commissary of Pris- 
ons, appointed by General Howe in 1776. Judge 
Thomas Jones was a noted loyalist of the day. Find- 
ing it inconvenient to remain in this country after 
the war, he removed to England, where he died in 
1792, having first completed his "History of New 
York during the Revolution." He gives a much 
larger number of prisoners in that city in the year 
1776 than do any of the other authorities. We will, 
however, give his statements just as they were 
written. 

"Upon the close of the campaign in 1776 there 
were not less than 10,000 prisoners (Sailors included) 
within the British lines in New York. A Com- 
missary of Prisoners was therefore appointed, and 
one Joshua Loring, a Bostonian, was commissioned 
to the office with a guinea a day, and rations of all 
kinds for himself and family. In this appointment 
there was reciprocity. Loring had a handsome wife. 
The General, Sir William Howe, was fond of her. 
Joshua made no objections. He fingered the cash : 
the General enjoyed Madam. Everybody supposing 
the next campaign (should the rebels ever risk an- 
other) would put a final period to the rebellion, 
Loring was determined to make the most of his com- 
mission and by appropriating to his own use nearly 
two thirds of the rations allowed the prisoners, he 
actually starved to death about three hundred of the 
poor wretches before an exchange took place, and which 
was not until February, 1777, and hundreds that 
were alive at the time were so emaciated and en- 
feebled for the want of provisions, that numbers 



58 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

died on the road on their way home, and many lived 
but a few days after reaching their habitations. The 
war continuing, the Commissaryship of Prisoners 
grew so lucrative that in 1778 the Admiral thought 
proper to appoint one for naval prisoners. Upon the 
French War a Commissary was appointed for France. 
When Spain joined France another was appointed 
for Spain. When Great Britain made war upon 
Holland a Commissary was appointed for Dutch 
prisoners. Each had his guinea a day, and rations 
for himself and family. Besides, the prisoners were 
half starved, as the Commissaries filched their 
provisions, and disposed of them for their own use. 
It is a known fact, also, that whenever an exchange 
was to take place the preference was given to those 
who had, or could procure, the most money to present 
to the Commissaries who conducted the exchange, by 
which means large sums of money were unjustly ex- 
torted and demanded from the prisoners at every 
exchange, to the scandal and disgrace of Britons. We 
had five Commissaries of Prisoners, when one could 
have done all the business. Each Commissary had a 
Deputy, a Clerk, a Messenger in full pay, with ra- 
tions of every kind." 

As Judge Jones was an ardent Tory we would 
scarcely imagine that he would exaggerate in de- 
scribing the corruptions of the commissaries. He 
greatly deplored the cruelties with which he taxed 
General Howe and other officials, and declared that 
these enormities prevented all hopes of reconciHation 
with Great Britain. 

We will next quote from the "Life of Ethan 
Allen," written by himself, as he describes the condi- 
tion of the prisoners in the churches in New York 
more graphically than any of his contemporaries. 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 59 

ETHAN Allen's account of the AMERICAN 
PRISONERS 

"Our number, about thirty-four, were all locked 
up in one common large room, without regard to 
rank, education, or any other accomplishment, where 
we continued from the setting to the rising sun, and 
as sundry of them were infected with the gaol and 
other distempers, the furniture of this spacious room 
consisted principally of excrement tubs. We peti- 
tioned for a removal of the sick into hospitals, but 
were denied. We remonstrated against the ungen- 
erous usage of being confined with the privates, as 
being contrary to the laws and customs of nations, 
and particularly ungrateful in them, in consequence 
of the gentleman-like usage which the British im- 
prisoned officers met with in America; and thus we 
wearied ourselves petitioning and remonstrating, but 
to no purpose at all; for General Massey, who com- 
manded at Halifax, was as inflexible as the d — 1 
himself. ^ ^ ^^ Among the prisoners were five 
who had a legal claim to a parole, James Lovel, Esq; 
Captain Francis Proctor; a Mr. Howland, Master of 
a Continental armed vessel; a Mr. Taylor, his mate, 
and myself. * * * The prisoners were ordered 
to go on board of a man-of-war, which was bound 
for New York, but two of them were not able to go 
on board and were left in Halifax: one died and the 
other recovered. This was about the 12th of October, 
1776. * * ^ "\Ye arrived before New York and 
cast an anchor the latter part of October, where we 
remained several days, and where Captain Smith in- 
formed me that he had recommended me to Admiral 
Howe, and General Sir Wm. Howe, as a gentleman 
of honor and veracity, and desired that I might be 



60 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

treated as such. Captain Burk was then ordered on 
board a prison ship in the harbor. I took my leave 
of Captain Smith, and with the other prisoners was 
sent on board a transport ship. * * * Some of 
the last days of November the prisoners were landed 
at New York, and I was admitted to parole with 
the other officers, viz: Proctor, Rowland, and 
Taylor. The privates were put into the filthy 
churches in New York, with the distressed prisoners 
that were taken at Fort Washington, and the second 
night Sergeant Roger Moore, who was bold and en- 
terprising, found means to make his escape, with 
every of the remaining prisoners that were taken with 
me, except three who were soon after exchanged: 
so that out of thirty-one prisoners who went with 
me the round exhibited in these sheets^ two only 
died with the enemy, and three only were exchanged, 
one of whom died after he came within our lines. 
All the rest at different times made their escape from 
the enemy. 

"I now found myself on parole, and restricted to 
the limits of the city of New York, where I soon 
projected means to live in some measure agreeable 
to my rank, though I was destitute of cash. My 
constitution was almost worn out by such a long 
and barbarous captivity. ^ * ^ j^ consequence 
of a regular diet and exercise my blood recruited, 
and my nerves in a great measure recovered their 
former tone * * * jn the course of six months. 

"* * "^ Those who had the misfortune to fall 
into the enemy's hands at Fort Washington * * * 
were reserved from immediate death to famish and 
die with hunger : in fine the word 'rebel' was 
thought by the enemy sufficient to sanctify whatever 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 61 

cruelties they were pleased to inflict, death itself not 
excepted. * * * 

"The prisoners who were brought to New York 
were crowded into churches, and environed with 
slavish Hessian guards, a people of a strange lan- 
guage * * * and at other times by merciless 
Britons, whose mode of communicating ideas being 
unintelligible in this country served only to tantalize 
and insult the helpless and perishing; but above all 
the hellish delight and triumph of the tories over 
them, as they were dying by hundreds. This was too 
much for me to bear as a spectator; for I saw the 
tories exulting over the dead bodies of their country- 
men. I have gone into the churches and seen sundry 
of the prisoners in the agonies of death, in conse- 
quence of very hunger; and others speechless and 
near death, biting pieces of chips ; others pleading, 
for God's sake for something to eat, and at the same 
time shivering with the cold. Hollow groans saluted 
my ears, and despair seemed to be imprinted on every 
of their countenances. The filth in these churches, 
in consequence of the fluxes, was almost beyond de- 
scription. I have carefully sought to direct my steps 
so as to avoid it, but could not. They would beg for 
God's sake for one copper or morsel of bread. I 
have seen in one of the churches seven dead, at the 
same time, lying among the excrements of their 
bodies. 

"It was a common practice with the enemy to 
convey the dead from these filthy places in carts, to 
be slightly buried, and I have seen whole gangs of 
tories making derision, and exulting over the dead, 

saying 'There goes another load of d d rebels !' 

I have observed the British soldiers to be full of their 



62 American Prisoners of the Revoi^ution 

blackguard jokes and vaunting on those occasions, 
but they seemed to me to be less maUgnant than the 
Tories. 

"The provision dealt out to the prisoners was by 
no means sufficient for the support of life. It was 
deficient in Quantity, and much more so in Quality. 
The prisoners often presented me with a sample of 
their bread, which I certify was damaged to such a 
degree that it was loathsome and unfit to be eaten, 
and I am bold to aver it as my opinion, that it had 
been condemned and was of the very worst sort. I 
have seen and been fed upon damaged bread, in the 
course of my captivity, and observed the quality of 
such bread as has been condemned by the enemy, 
among which was very little so effectually spoiled 
as what was dealt out to these prisoners. Their al- 
lowance of meat, as they told me, was quite trifling 
and of the basest sort. I never saw any of it, but 
was informed, bad as it was, it was swallowed al- 
most as quick as they got hold of it. I saw some of 
them sucking bones after they were speechless; 
others who could yet speak and had the use of their 
reason, urged me in the strongest and most pathetic 
manner, to use my interest in their behalf : 'For 
you plainly see,' said they, 'that we are devoted to 
death and destruction,' and after I had examined 
more particularly into their truly deplorable condi- 
tion and had become more fully apprized of the es- 
sential facts, I was persuaded that it was a 
premeditated and systematized plan of the British 
council to destroy the youths of our land, with a 
view thereby to deter the country and make it sub- 
mit to their despotism: but as I could not do them 
any material service, and by any public attempt for 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 63 

that purpose I might endanger myself by frequenting 
places the most nauseous and contagious that could 
be conceived of, I refrained going into the churches, 
but frequently conversed with such of the prisoners 
as were admitted to come out into the yard, and 
found that the systematical usage still continued. The 
guard would often drive me away with their fixed 
bayonets. A Hessian one day followed me five or 
six rods, but by making use of my legs, I got rid of 
the lubber. 

"Sometimes I could obtain a little conversation 
notwithstanding their severities. 

"I was in one of the yards and it was rumoured 
among those in the church, and sundry of the pris- 
oners came with their usual complaints to me, and 
among the rest a large-boned, tall young man, as he 
told me from Pennsylvania, who was reduced to a 
mere skeleton. He said he was glad to see me before 
he died, which he had expected to have done last 
night, but was a little revived. He further informed 
me that he and his brother had been urged to enlist 
into the British army, but had both resolved to die 
first; that his brother had died last night, in conse- 
quence of that resolve, and that he expected shortly 
to follow him; but I made the other prisoners stand 
a little off and told him with a low voice to enlist; 
he then asked whether it was right in the sight of 
God? I assured him that it was, and that duty to 
himself obliged him to deceive the British by en- 
listing and deserting the first opportunity; upon 
which he answered with transport that he would en- 
list. I charged him not to mention my name as his 
adviser, lest it should get air and I should be closely 
confined, in consequence of it. 



64 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

"The integrity of these suffering prisoners is in- 
credible. Many hundreds of them, I am confident, 
submitted to death rather than enlist in the British 
service, which, I am informed, they most generally 
were pressed to do. I was astonished at the resolu- 
tion of the two brothers, particularly; it seems that 
they could not be stimulated to such exertions of 
heroism from ambition, as they were but obscure 
soldiers. Strong indeed must the internal principle 
of virtue be which supported them to brave death, 
and one of them went through the operation, as did 
many hundreds others * * * These things will have 
their proper effect upon the generous and brave. 

"The officers on parole were most of them zealous, 
if possible, to afford the miserable soldiers relief, and 
often consulted with one another on the subject, but 
to no effect, being destitute of the means of subsist- 
ence which they needed, nor could they project any 
measure which they thought would alter their fate, 
or so much as be a mean of getting them out of those 
filthy places to the privilege of fresh air. Some pro- 
jected that all the officers should go in procession to 
General Howe and plead the cause of the perishing 
soldiers, but this proposal was negatived for the fol- 
lowing reasons : viz : because that General Howe 
must needs be well acquainted and have a thorough 
knowledge of the state and condition of the prison- 
ers in every of their wretched apartments, and that 
much more particular and exact than any officer on 
parole could be supposed to have, as the General 
had a return of the circumstances of the prisoners 
by his own officers every morning, of the number 
who were alive, as also of the number who died 
every twenty- four hours: and consequently the bill 



American Prisoners of the Revoi^ution 65 

of mortality, as collected from the daily returns, 
lay before him with all the material situations and 
circumstances of the prisoners, and provided the of- 
ficers should go in procession to General Howe, ac- 
cording to the projection, it would give him the 
greatest affront, and that he would either retort upon 
them, that it was no part of their parole to instruct 
him in his conduct to prisoners; that they were 
mutinying against his authority, and, by affronting 
him, had forfeited their parole, or that, more prob- 
ably, instead of saying one word to them, would 
order them all into as wretched a confinement as the 
soldiers whom they sought to relieve, for at that 
time the British, from the General to the private 
centinel, were in full confidence, nor did they so much 
as hesitate, but that they should conquer the country. 

"Thus the consultation of the officers was con- 
founded and broken to pieces, in consequence of the 
dread which at the time lay on their minds of of- 
fending General Howe; for they conceived so 
murderous a tryant would not be too good to destroy 
even the officers on the least pretence of an affront, 
as they were equally in his power with the soldiers; 
and as General Howe perfectly understood the con- 
dition of the private soldiers, it was argued that it 
was exactly such as he and his council had devised, 
and as he meant to destroy them it would be to no 
purpose for them to try to dissuade him from it, as 
they were helpless and liable to the same fate, on 
giving the least affront. Indeed anxious appre- 
hensions disturbed them in their then circumstances. 

"Meantime mortality raged to such an intolerable 
degree among the prisoners that the very school 
boys in the street knew the mental design of it in 
—5 



66 American Prisoners of the Revoi^ution 

some measure; at least they knew that they were 
starved to death. Some poor women contributed to 
their necessity till their children were almost starved; 
and all persons of common understanding knew that 
they were devoted to the cruellest and worst of 
deaths. 

"It was also proposed by some to make a written 
representation of the condition of the soldiery, and 
the officers to sign it, and that it should be couched 
in such terms, as though they were apprehensive 
that the General was imposed upon by his officers, 
in their daily returns to him of the state and condi- 
tion of the prisoners, and that therefor the 
officers moved with compassion, were constrained 
to communicate to him the facts relative to them, 
nothing doubting but that they would meet 
with a speedy redress; but this proposal was 
most generally negatived also, and for much the 
same reason offered in the other case; for it was 
conjectured that General Howe's indignation would 
be moved against such officers as should attempt to 
whip him over his officers' backs; that he would dis- 
cern that he himself was really struck at, and not 
the officers who made the daily returns; and therefor 
self preservation deterred the officers from either pe- 
titioning or remonstrating to General Howe, either 
verbally or in writing; as also they considered that 
no valuable purpose to the distressed would be ob- 
tained. 

"I made several rough drafts on the subject, one 
of which I exhibited to the Colonels Magaw, Miles, 
and Atlee ; and they said that they would consider 
the matter. Soon after I called on them, and some 
of the gentlemen informed me that they had written 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 67 

to the General on the subject, and I concluded that 
the gentlemen thought it best that they should write 
without me, as there was such spirited aversion sub- 
sisting between the British and me." 

Ethan Allen goes on to say: "Our little army was 
retreating in New Jersey and our young men 
murdered by hundreds in New York." He then 
speaks of Washington's success at Trenton in the 
following terms: ''This success had a mighty effect 
on General Howe and his council, and roused them 
to a sense of their own weakness. * * * Their 
obduracy and death-designing malevolence in some 
measure abated or was suspended. The prisoners, 
who were condemned to the most wretched and 
cruellest of deaths, and who survived to this period, 
though most of them died before, were immediately 
ordered to be sent within General Washington's lines, 
for an exchange, and in consequence of it were taken 
out of their filthy and poisonous places of confine- 
ment, and sent out of New York to their friends in 
haste. Several of them fell dead in the streets of 
New York, as they attempted to walk to the vessels 
in the harbor, for their intended embarkation. What 
number lived to reach the lines I cannot ascertain, 
but, from concurrent representations which I have 
since received from numbers of people who lived in 
and adjacent to such parts of the country, where 
they were received from the enemy, / apprehend 
that most of them died in consequence of the vile 
usage of the enemy. Some who were eye witnesses 
of the scene of mortality, more especially in that 
part which continued after the exchange took place, 
are of opinion that it was partly in consequence of 
a slow poison; but this I refer to the doctors who 
attended them, who are certainly the best judges. 



i68 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

"Upon the best calculation I have been able to 
make from personal knowledge, and the many evi- 
dences I have collected in support of the facts, I 
learn that, of the prisoners taken on Long Island 
and Fort Washington and some few others, at dif- 
ferent times and places, about two thousand perished 
with hunger, cold, and sickness, occasioned by the 
filth of their prisons, at New York; and a number 
more on their passage to the continental lines ; most 
of the residue who reached their friends having re- 
ceived their death wound, could not be restored by 
the assistance of their physicians and friends: but 
like their brother prisoners, fell a sacrifice to the 
relentless and scientific barbarity of the British. I 
took as much pains as the circumstances would admit 
of to inform myself not only of matters of fact, but 
likewise of the very design and aims of General 
Howe and his council, the latter of which I pred- 
icated on the former, and submit it to the candid 
public." 



CHAPTER VIII 
The Account of Alexander Graydon 

ONE of the most interesting and best memoirs 
of revolutionary times is that written by 
Alexander Graydon, and as he was taken prisoner 
at Fort Washington, and closely connected with the 
events in New York during the winter of 1776-7, 
we will quote here his account of his captivity. 

He describes the building of Fort Washington in 
July of 1776 by the men of Magaw's and Hand's 
regiments. General Putnam was the engineer. It 
was poorly built for defence, and not adapted for a 
siege. 

Graydon was a captain in Colonel Shee's Regi- 
ment, but, for some reason or other, Shee went home 
just before the battle was fought, and his troops 
were commanded by Cadwallader in his stead. 
Graydon puts the number of privates taken prisoner 
at 2706 and the officers at about 210. Bedinger, as 
we have already seen, states that there were 2673 
privates and 210 officers. He was a man of pains- 
taking accuracy, and it is quite probable that his ac- 
count is the most trustworthy. As one of the pri- 
vates was Bedinger's own young brother, a boy of 
fifteen, whom he undoubtedly visited as often as 
possible, while Graydon only went once to the 
prisons, perhaps Bedinger had the best opportunities 
for computing the number of captives. 

Graydon says that Colonel Rawlings was, some 
time late in the morning of the 16th of November, 
attacked by the Hessians, when he fought with great 
gallantry and effect as they were climbing the heights, 



70 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

until the arms of the riflemen became useless from 
the foulness they contracted from the frequent 
repetition of their fire. 

Graydon, himself, becoming separated from his 
own men, mistook a party of Highlanders for them, 
and was obliged to surrender to them. He was put 
under charge of a Scotch sergeant, who said to him 
and his companion, Forrest: "Young men, ye should 
never fight against your King!" 

Just then a British officer rode up at full gallop 
exclaiming, "What! taking prisoners! Kill them, Kill 
every man of them!" 

"My back was towards him when he spoke," says 
Graydon, "and although by this time there was none 
of that appearance of ferocity in the guard which 
would induce much fear that they would execute 
his command, I yet thought it well enough to parry 
it, and turning to him, I took off my hat, saying, 
'Sir, I put myself under your protection!' 

"No man was ever more effectually rebuked. His 
manner was instantly softened; he met my salutation 
with an inclination of his body, and after a civil 
question or two, as if to make amends for his 
sanguinary mandate, rode off towards the fort, to 
which he had enquired the way. 

"Though I had delivered up my arms I had not 
adverted to a cartouche box which I wore about my 
waist, and which, having once belonged to his British 
Majesty, presented in front the gilded letters, G. R. 
Exasperated at this trophy on the body of a rebel, 
one of the soldiers seized the belt with great violence, 
and in the act to unbuckle it, had nearly jerked me 
off my legs. To appease the offended loyalty of the 
honest Scot I submissively took it off and handed it 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 71 

to him, being conscious that I had no longer any right 
to it. At this moment a Hessian came up. He was 
not a private, neither did he look like a regular of- 
ficer. He was some retainer, however, to the German 
troops, and as much of a brute as any one I have 
ever seen in human form. The wretch came near 
enough to elbow us, and, half unsheathing his sword,, 
with a countenance that bespoke a most vehement 
desire to use it against us, he grunted out in brokea 
English, 'Eh! you rebel! you damn rebel!' 

**I had by this time entire confidence in our 
Scotchmen, and therefore regarded the caitiff with 
the same indifference that I should have viewed a 
caged wild beast, though with much greater ab- 
horrence. * * * 

"We were marched to an old stable, where we 
found about forty or fifty prisoners already col- 
lected, principally officers, of whom I only particu- 
larly recollect Lieutenant Brodhead of our battalion. 
We remained on the outside of the building; and, 
for nearly an hour, sustained a series of the most 
intolerable abuse. This was chiefly from the officers 
of the light infantry, for the most part young and 
insolent puppies, whose worthlessness was apparently 
their recommendation to a service, which placed them 
in the post of danger, and in the way of becoming 
food for powder, their most appropriate destination 
next to that of the gallows. The term 'rebel,' with 
the epithet 'damned' before it, was the mildest we 
received. We were twenty times told, sometimes 
with a taunting affectation of concern, that we should 
every man of us be hanged. * * * The in- 
dignity of being ordered about by such contemptible 
whipsters, for a moment unmanned me, and I was 



72 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

obliged to apply my handkerchief to my eyes. This 
was the first time in my life that I had been the 
victim of brutal, cowardly oppression, and I was 
unequal to the shock; but my elasticity of mind was 
soon restored, and I viewed it with the indignant 
contempt it deserved. 

'*For the greater convenience of guarding us we 
were now removed to the barn of Colonel Morris's 
house, which had been the head-quarters of our army. 

* * * It was a good, new building. * * * 
There were from a himdred and fifty to two hundred, 
comprising a motley group, to be sure. Men and 
officers of all descriptions, regulars and militia, 
troops continental and state, and some in hunting 
shirts, the mortal aversion of a red coat. Some of 
the officers had been plundered of their hats, and 
some of their coats, and upon the new society into 
which we were introduced, with whom a showy ex- 
terior was all in all, we were certainly not calculated 
to make a very favorable impression. I found Cap- 
tain Tudor here, of our regiment, who, if I mistake 
not, had lost his hat. * * * j^ ^^g announced, by 
an huzza, that the fort had surrendered. 

*'The officer who commanded the guard in whose 
custody we now were, was an ill-looking, low-bred 
fellow of this dashing corps of light infantry. 

* * * As I stood as near as possible to the door 
for the sake of air, the enclosure in which we were 
being extremely crowded and unpleasant, I was par- 
ticularly exposed to his brutality; and repelling with 
some severity one of his attacks, for I was becoming 
desperate and careless of safety, the ruffian ex- 
claimed, 'Not a word, sir, or damme, I'll give you 
my butt!' at the same time clubbing his fusee, and 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 73 

drawing it back as if to give the blow. I fully ex- 
pected it, but he contented himself with the threat. 
I observed to him that I was in his power, and dis- 
posed to submit to it, though not proof against every 
provocation. ^ ^ ^ There were several British 
officers present, when a Serjeant-Major came to take 
an account of us, and particularly a list of such of 
us as were officers. This Serjeant, though not un- 
civil, had all that animated, degage impudence of air, 
which belongs to a self complacent, non-commis- 
sioned officer of the most arrogant army in the 
world; and with his pen in his hand and his paper 
on his knee applied to each of us in his turn for his 
rank. * * * f]jQ sentinels were withdrawn to 
the distance of about ten or twelve feet, and we 
were told that such of us as were officers might walk 
before the door. This was a great relief to us." 

The officers were lodged in the barn loft quite 
comfortably. A young Lieutenant Beckwith had 
them in charge, and was a humane gentleman. In 
the evening he told them he would send them, if pos- 
sible, a bottle of wine, but at any rate, a bottle of 
spirits. He kept his word as to the spirits, which was 
all the supper the party in the loft had. **In the 
morning a soldier brought me Mr. B.'s compHments, 
and an invitation to come down and breakfast with 
him. * * * J thankfully accepted his invita- 
tion,' and took with me Forrest and Tudor. * * * 
He gave us a dish of excellent coffee, with plenty of 
very good toast, which was the only morsel we 
had eaten for the last twenty-four hours. * * * 
Our fellow sufferers got nothing until next morn- 

ino" H^ 5fj 5}t 

"All the glory that was going (in the battle of 



74 American Prisoners of the Revoi^ution 

Fort Washington) had, in my idea of what had 
passed, been engrossed by the regiment of RawHngs, 
which had been actively engaged, killed a number of 
the enemy, and lost many themselves. 

** About two o'clock Mr. B. sent me a plate amply 
supplied with corned beef, cabbage, and the leg and 
wing of a turkey, with bread in proportion." 

Though Mr. Graydon calls this gentleman Mr. 
Becket, it seems that there was no young officer of 
that name at the battle of Fort Washington. Becket 
appears to be a mistake for Lieutenant Onslow 
Beckwith. The prisoners were now marched within 
six miles of New York and Graydon's party of of- 
ficers were well quartered in a house. **Here," he 
continues, "for the first time we drew provisions for 
the famished soldiers. * * * Previously to en- 
tering the city we were drawn up for about an hour 
on the high ground near the East River. Here, the 
officers being separated from the men, we were con- 
ducted into a church, where we signed a parole." 

At this place a non-commissioned British officer, 
who had seen him at the ordinary kept by his 
widowed mother in Philadelphia, when he was a boy, 
insisted on giving him a dollar. 

''Quarters were assigned for us in the upper part 
of the .town, in what was called 'The holy ground.' 
* * * I ventured to take board at four dollars 
per week with a Mrs. Carroll, ^s^ * * Colonel 
Magaw, Major West, and others, boarded with me." 

He was fortunate in obtaining his trunk and mat- 
tress. Speaking of the prisons in which the privates 
were confined he says : "I once and once only ven- 
tured to penetrate into these abodes of human misery 
and despair. But to what purpose repeat my visit,. 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 75 

when I had neither relief to administer nor comfort 
to bestow ? * * * I endeavoured to comfort them 
with the hope of exchange, but humanity forbade me 
to counsel them to rush on sure destruction. * * * 
Our own condition was a paradise to theirs. 

* * * Thousands of my unhappy countrymen 
were consigned to slow, consuming tortures, equally 
fatal and potent to destruction." 

The American officers on parole in New York pre- 
pared a memorial to Sir William Howe on the con- 
dition of these wretched sufferers, and it was signed 
by Colonels Magaw, Miles, and Atlee. This is, no 
doubt, the paper of which Colonel Ethan Allen 
writes. Captain Graydon was commissioned to de- 
liver this document to Sir William Howe. He says : 
''The representation which had been submitted to 
General Howe in behalf of the suffering prisoners 
was more successful than had been expected. 

* * * The propositions had been considered by 
Sir Williamx Howe, and he was disposed to accede to 
them. These were that the men should be sent 
within our lines, where they should be receipted for, 
and an equal number of the prisoners in our hands 
returned in exchange. * * * Our men, no 
longer soldiers (their terms for which they had en- 
listed having expired) and too debilitated for service, 
gave a claim to sound men, immediately fit to take 
the field, and there was moreover great danger that 
if they remained in New York the disease with which 
they were infected might be spread throughout the 
city. At any rate hope was admitted into the man- 
sions of despair, the prison doors were thrown open, 
and the soldiers who were yet alive and capable of 
being moved were conveyed to our nearest posts, 



76 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

under the care of our regimental surgeons, to them 
a fortunate circumstance, since it enabled then to ex- 
change the land of bondage for that of liberty. 
* * * Immediately after the release of our men 
a new location was assigned to us. On the 22nd of 
January, 1777, we were removed to Long Island." 



CHAPTER IX 
A Fouiv Page of Engush History 

WE WILL not follow Mr. Graydon now to 
Long Island. It was then late in January, 
1777. The survivors of the American prisoners 
were, many of them, exchanged for healthy British 
soldiers. The crime had been committed, one of the 
blackest which stains the annals of English history. 
By the most accurate computation at least two 
thousand helpless American prisoners had been 
slowly starved, frozen, or poisoned to death in the 
churches and other prisons in New York. 

No excuse for this monstrous crime can be found, 
even by those who are anxiously in search of an 
adequate one. 

We have endeavored to give some faint idea of the 
horrors of that hopeless captivity. As we have al- 
ready said scarcely any one who endured imprison- 
ment for any length of time in the churches lived 
to tell the tale. One of these churches was standing 
not many years ago, and the marks of bayonet thrusts 
might plainly be seen upon its pillars. What terrible 
deeds were enacted there we can only conjecture. 
We know that two thousand, healthy, high-spirited 
young men, many of them sons of gentlemen, and 
all patriotic, brave, and long enduring, even unto 
death, were foully murdered in these places of tor- 
ment, compared to which ordinary captivity is de- 
scribed by one who endured it as paradise. We 
know, we say, that these young men perished awfully, 
rather than enlist in the British army; that posterity 
has almost forgotten them, and that their dreadful 



78 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

sufferings ought to be remembered wherever Ameri- 
can history is read. 

We have already said that it is impossible now to 
obtain the names of all who suffered death at the 
hands of their inhuman jailors during the fall and 
winter of 1776-7. But we have taken Captain 
Abraham Shepherd's company of riflemen as a 
sample of the prisoners, and are able, thanks to the 
pay roll now in our care, to indicate the fate of each 
man upon the list. 

It is a mistake to say that no prisoners deserted 
to the British. After the account we have quoted 
from Ethan Allen's book we feel sure that no one 
can find the heart to blame the poor starving crea- 
tures who endeavored to preserve their remains of 
life in this manner. 

Henry Bedinger gives the names of seven men of 
this company who deserted. They are Thomas Knox, 
a corporal; William Anderson, Richard Neal, George 
Taylor, Moses McComesky, Anthony Blackhead and 
Anthony Larkin. Thomas Knox did not join the 
British forces until the 17th of January, 1777; Wil- 
liam Anderson on the 20th of January, 1777. 
Richard Neal left the American army on the tenth 
of August, 1776. He, therefore, was not with the reg- 
iment at Fort Washington. George Taylor deserted 
on the 9th of July, 1776, which was nine days after 
he enlisted. Moses McComesky did not desert until 
the 14th of June, 1777. Anthony Blackhead deserted 
November 15th, 1776, the day before the battle was 
fought; Anthony Larkin, September 15th, 1776. We 
cannot tell what became of any of these men. Those 
who died of the prisoners are no less than fifty-two 
in this one company of seventy-nine privates and 



American Prisoners of the Revoi^ution 79 

non-commissioned officers. This may and probably 
does include a few who lived to be exchanged. The 
date of death of each man is given, but not the place 
in which he died. 

A very singular fact about this record is that no 
less than seventeen of the prisoners of this company 
died on the same day, which was the fifteenth of 
February, 1777. Why this was so we cannot tell. 
We can only leave the cause of their death to the 
imagination of our readers. Whether they were 
poisoned by wholesale; whether they were murdered 
in attempting to escape ; whether the night being 
extraordinarily severe, they froze to death; whether 
they were butchered by British bayonets, we are 
totally unable to tell. The record gives their names 
and the date of death and says that all seventeen 
were prisoners. That is all. 

The names of these men are Jacob Wine, Wil- 
liam Waller, Peter Snyder, Conrad Rush, David 
Harmon, William Moredock, William Wilson, James 
Wilson, Thomas Beatty, Samuel Davis, John Cas- 
sody, Peter Good, John Nixon, Christopher 
Peninger, Benjamin McKnight, John McSwaine, 
James Griffith, and Patrick Murphy. 

Two or three others are mentioned as dying the 
day after. Is it possible that these men were on 
board one of the prison ships which was set on fire? 
If so we have been able to discover no account of such 
a disaster on that date. 

Many of the papers of Major Henry Bedinger 
were destroyed. It is possible that he may have left 
some clue to the fate of these men, but if so it is 
probably not now in existence. But among the let- 
ters and memoranda written by him which have been 
submitted to us for inspection, is a list, written on a 



80 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

scrap of paper, of the men that he recruited for 
Captain Shepherd's Company in the summer of 1776. 
This paper gives the names of the men and the date 
on which each one died in prison. It is as follows : 

UST OF MEN RAISED BY LIEUTENANT HENRY 

BEDINGER, AND THAT HE BROUGHT FROM NEW 

TOWN, BERKELEY COUNTY, VA., AUGUST 

FIRST, 1776 

Dennis Bush, Fourth Sergeant. (He was taken 
prisoner at Fort Washington, but lived to be ex- 
changed, and was paid up to October 1st, 1778, at 
the end of the term for which the company enlisted.) 

Conrad Cabbage, Prisoner, Died, Jan. 7th, 1777. 
John Cummins, Prisoner, Died, Jan. 27th, 1777. 
Gabriel Stevens, Prisoner, Died, March 1st, 1777. 
William Donally, Prisoner, Died, Jan. 10th, 1777. 
David Gilmer, Prisoner, Died, Jan. 26th, 1777. 
John Cassady, Prisoner, Died, Feb. 15th, 1777. 
Samuel Brown, Prisoner, Died, Feb. 26th, 1777. 
Peter Good, Prisoner, Died, Feb. 13th, 1777. 
William Boyle, Prisoner, Died, Feb. 25th, 1777. 
John Nixon, Prisoner, Died, Feb. 18th, 1777. 
Anthony Blackhead, deserted, Nov. 15th, 1776. 
Wilham Case, Prisoner, Died, March 15th, 1777. 
Caspar Myres, Prisoner, Died, Feb. 16th, 1777. 
William Seaman, Prisoner, Died, July 8th, 1777. 
Isaac Price, Prisoner, Died, Feb. 5th, 1777. 
Samuel Davis, Prisoner, Died, Feb. 15th, 1777. 

Wilham Seaman was the son of Jonah Seaman, 
hving near Darkesville. Isaac Price was an orphan, 
living with James' Campbell's father. Samuel Davis 
came from near Charlestown. 

Henry Bedinger. 



American Prisoners of the RevoIvUtion 81 

This is all, but it is eloquent with what it does not 
say. All but two of this list of seventeen young, 
vigorous riflemen died in prison or from the effects 
of confinement. One, alone had sufficient vitality 
to endure until the 8th of July, 1777. Perhaps he 
was more to be pitied than his comrades. 

We now begin to understand how it happened that, 
out of more than 2,600 privates taken prisoner at 
Fort Washington, 1,900 were dead in the space of 
two months and four days, when the exchange of 
some of the survivors took place. Surely this is a 
lasting disgrace to one of the greatest nations of the 
world. If, as seems undoubtedly true, more men 
perished in prison than on the battle fields of the Rev- 
olution, it is difficult to see why so little is made of 
this fact in the many histories of that struggle that 
have been written. We find that the accounts of 
British prisons are usually dismissed in a few words, 
sometimes in an appendix, or a casual note. But 
history was ever written thus. Great victories are 
elaborately described; and all the pomp and circum- 
stance of war is set down for our pleasure and in- 
struction. But it is due to the grand solemn muse 
of history, who carries the torch of truth, that the 
other side, the horrors of war, should be as faithfully 
delineated. Wars will not cease until the lessons of 
their cruelty, their barbarity, and the dark trail of 
suffering they leave behind them are deeply impressed 
upon the mind. It is our painful task to go over the 
picture, putting in the shadows as we see them, how- 
ever gloomy may be the effect. 



CHAPTER X 
A Boy in Prison 

IN THE winter of 1761 a boy was bom in a Ger- 
man settlement near Lancaster, Pennsylvania, 
the third son of Henry Bedinger and his wife, whose 
maiden name was Magdalene von Schlegel. These 
Germans, whom we have already mentioned, moved, 
in 1762, to the neighborhood of the little hamlet, then 
called Mecklenburg, Berkeley County, Virginia. Aft- 
erwards the name of the town was changed to Shep- 
herdstown, in honor of its chief proprietor, Thomas 
Shepherd. 

Daniel was a boy of fourteen when the first com- 
pany of riflemen was raised at Shepherdstown by the 
gallant young officer, Captain Hugh Stephenson, in 
1775. 

The rendezvous of this company was the spring 
on his mother's farm, then called Bedinger's Spring, 
where the clear water gushes out of a great rock at 
the foot of an ancient oak. The son of Daniel Bed- 
inger, Hon. Henry Bedinger, Minister to the Court 
of Denmark in 1853, left a short account of his fa- 
ther's early history, which we will quote in this place. 
He says : "When the war of the Revolution com- 
menced my father's eldest brother Henry was about 
twenty-two years of age. His next brother, Michael, 
about nineteen, and he himself only in his fifteenth 
year. Upon the first news of hostilities his two broth- 
ers joined a volunteer company under the com- 
mand of Captain Hugh Stephenson, and set off im- 
mediately to join the army at Cambridge. 

"My father himself was extremely anxious to ac- 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 83 

company them, but they and his mother, who was a 
widow, forbade his doing so, telling him he was en- 
tirely too young, and that he must stay at home and 
take care of his younger brothers and sisters. And 
he was thus very reluctantly compelled to remain at 
home. At the expiration of about twelve months his 
brothers returned home, and when the time for their 
second departure had arrived, the wonderful tales 
they had narrated of their life in camp had wrought 
so upon my father's youthful and ardent imagination 
that he besought them and his mother with tears in 
his eyes, to suffer him to accompany them. But they, 
regarding his youth, would not give their consent, 
but took their departure without him. 

"However, the second night after their arrival in 
camp (which was at Bergen, New Jersey), they were 
astonished by the arrival of my father, he having 
run off from home and followed them all the way on 
foot, and now appeared before them, haggard and 
weary and half starved by the lengths of his march. 
* * * My father was taken prisoner at the battle of 
Fort Washington, and the privations and cruel treat- 
ment which he then underwent gave a blow to his 
constitution from which he never recovered. After 
the close of the Revolution he returned home with a 
constitution much shattered. * ♦ * '' 

Many years after the Revolution Dr. Draper, who 
died in Madison, Wisconsin, and left his valuable 
manuscripts to the Historical Society of that State, 
interviewed an old veteran of the war, in Kentucky. 
This venerable relic of the Revolution was Major 
George Michael Bedinger, a brother of Daniel. Dr. 
Draper took down from his lips a short account of 
the battle of Fort Washington, where his two broth- 



84 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

ers were captured. Major G. M. Bedinger was 
not in service at that time, but must have received 
the account from one or both of his brothers. Dr. 
Draper says : *'In the action of Fort Washington 
Henry Bedinger heard a Hessian captain, having 
been repulsed, speak to his riflemen in his own lan- 
guage, telling them to follow his example and re- 
serve their fire until they were close. Bedinger, rec- 
ognizing his mother tongue, watched the approach of 
the Hessian officer, and each levelled his unerring 
rifle at the other. Both fired, Bedinger was wounded 
in the finger: the ball passing, cut off a lock of his 
hair. The Hessian was shot through the head, and 
instantly expired. Captain Bedinger's young brother 
Daniel, in his company, then but a little past fifteen, 
shot twenty-seven rounds, and was often heard to 
say, after discharging his piece, 'There! take that, 
you !' 

"His youthful intrepidity, and gallant conduct, so 
particularly attracted the attention of the officers, 
that, though taken prisoner, he was promoted to an 
ensigncy, his commission dating back six months that 
he might take precedence of the other ensigns of his 
company. 

"These two brothers remained prisoners, the 
youngest but a few months, and the elder nearly four 
years, both on prison ships, with the most cruel treat- 
ment, in filthy holds, impure atmosphere, and stinted 
allowance of food. With such treatment it was no 
wonder that but eight hundred out of the 2800 pris- 
oners taken at Fort Washington survived. 

"During the captivity of his brother Henry, Major 
Bedinger would by labor, loans at different times, 
and the property sold which he inherited from his 



American Prisoners of the Revoi^ution 85 

father, procure money to convey to the British Com- 
missary of Prisoners to pay his brother Henry's 
board. Then he was released from the filthy prison 
ship, limited on his parole of honor to certain limits 
at Flatbush, and decently provisioned and better 
treated, and it is pleasant to add that the British of- 
ficers having charge of these matters were faithful 
in the proper application of funds thus placed in their 
hands. Major Bedinger made many trips on this 
labor of fraternal affection. This, with his attention 
to his mother and family, kept him from regularly 
serving in the army. But he, never the less, would 
make short tours of service." 

So far we have quoted Dr. Draper's recollections 
of an interview with George Michael Bedinger in his 
extreme old age. We have already given Henry 
Bedinger's own acount of his captivity. What we 
know of Daniel's far severer treatment we will give 
in our own words. 

It was four days before the privates taken at Fort 
Washington had one morsel to eat. They were then 
given a little mouldy biscuit and raw pork. They 
were marched to New York, and Daniel was lodged 
with many others, perhaps with the whole company, 
in the Old Sugar House on Liberty Street. Here he 
very nearly died of exposure and starvation. There 
was no glass in the windows and scarce one of the 
prisoners was properly clothed. When it snowed 
they were drifted over as they slept. 

One day Daniel discovered in some vats a deposit 
of sugar which he was glad to scrape to sustain life. 
A gentleman, confined with him in the Old Sugar 
House, used to tell his descendants that the most ter- 
rible fight he ever engaged in was a struggle with a 
comrade in prison for the carcass of a decayed rat. 



86 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

It is possible that Henry Bedinger, an officer on 
parole in New York, may have found some means of 
communicating with his young brother, and even of 
supplying him, sometimes, with food. Daniel, how- 
ever, was soon put on board a prison ship, probably 
the Whitby, in New York harbor. 

Before the first exchange was effected the poor 
boy had yielded to despair, and had turned his face 
to the wall, to die. How bitterly he must have re- 
gretted the home he had been so ready to leave a 
few months before! And now the iron had eaten 
into his soul, and he longed for death, as the only 
means of release from his terrible sufferings. 

Daniel's father was born in Alsace, and he him- 
self had been brought up in a family where German 
was the famiHar language of the household. It 
seems that, in some way, probably by using his 
mother tongue, he had touched the heart of one of 
the Hessian guards. When the officers in charge 
went among the prisoners, selecting those who were 
to be exchanged, they twice passed the poor boy as 
too far gone to be moved. But he, with a sudden re- 
vival of hope and the desire to live, begged and en- 
treated the Hessian so pitifully not to leave him be- 
hind, that that young man, who is said to have been 
an officer, declared that he would be responsible for 
him, had him lifted and laid down in the bottom of 
a boat, as he was too feeble to sit or stand. In 
this condition he accompanied the other prisoners to 
a church in New York where the exchange was ef- 
fected. One or more of the American surgeons ac- 
companied the prisoners. In some way Daniel was 
conveyed to Philadelphia, where he completely col- 
lapsed, and was taken to one of the military hospitals. 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 87 

Here, about the first of January, 1777, his de- 
voted brother, George Michael Bedinger, found him. 
Major Bedinger's son, Dr. B. F. Bedinger, wrote an 
account of the meeting of these two brothers for 
Mrs. H. B. Lee, one of Daniel's daughters, which 
tells the rest of the story. He said: 

"My father went to the hospital in search of his 
brother, but did not recognize him. On inquiry if 
there were any (that had been) prisoners there a 
feeble voice responded, from a little pile of straw 
and rags in a corner, 'Yes, Michael, there is one.' 

"Overcome by his feelings my father knelt by the 
side of the poor emaciated boy, and took him in his 
arms. He then bore him to a house where he 
could procure some comforts in the way of food and 
clothing. After this he got an armchair, two pillows, 
and some leather straps. 

"He placed his suffering and beloved charge in the 
chair, supported him by the pillows, swung him by the 
leather straps to his back, and carried him some miles 
into the country, where he found a friendly asylum 
for him in the house of some good Quakers. There 
he nursed him, and by the aid of the kind owners, 
who were farmers, gave him nourishing food, until 
he partially recovered strength. 

"But your father was very impatient to get home, 
and wished to proceed before he was well able to 
walk, and did so leave, while my father walked by 
his side, with his arm around him to support him. 
Thus they travelled from the neighborhood of Phil- 
adelphia, to Shepherdstown (Virginia) of course by 
short stages, when my father restored him safe to 
his mother and family. 

"Your father related some of the incidents of that 



88 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

trip to me when I last saw him at Bedford (his home) 
in the spring of 1817, not more than one year before 
his death. Our uncle, Henry Bedinger, was also a 
prisoner for a long time, and although he suffered 
greatly his suffering was not to be compared to your 
father's. 

''After your father recovered his health he again 
entered the service and continued in it to the end of 
the war. He was made Lieutenant, and I have 
heard my father speak of many battles he was in, 
but I have forgotten the names and places."* 

After Daniel Bedinger returned home he had a re- 
lapse, and lay, for a long time, at the point of death. 
He, however, recovered, and re-entered the service, 
where the first duty assigned him was that of acting 
as one of the guards over the prisoners near Win- 
chester. He afterwards fought with Morgan in the 
southern campaigns, was in the battle of the Cow- 
pens, and several other engagements, serving until 
the army was disbanded. He was a Knight of the 
Order of the Cincinnati. His grandson, the Rev. 
Henr}^ Bedinger, has the original parchment signed 
by General Washington, in his possession. This 
grandson is now the chaplain of the Virginia branch 
of the Society. 

In 1791 Daniel Bedinger married Miss Sarah 
Rutherford, a daughter of Hon. Robert Rutherford, 
of Flowing Springs, in what is now Jefferson County, 
West Virginia, but was then part of Berkeley 
County, Virginia. 

Lieutenant Bedinger lived in Norfolk for many 
years. He was first engaged in the Custom House 

*Letter of Dr. B. F. Bedinger to Mrs. H. B. Lee, writ- 
ten in 1871. 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 89 

in that city. In 1802 he accepted the position of navy 
agent of the Gosport Navy Yard. He died in 1818 
at his home near Shepherdstown, of a malady which 
troubled him ever after his confinement as a prisoner 
in New York. He hated the British with a bitter 
hatred, which is not to be wondered at. He was an 
ardent supporter of Thomas Jefferson, and wrote 
much for the periodicals of the time. Withal he was 
a scholarly gentleman, and a warm and generous 
friend. He built a beautiful residence on the site of 
his mother's old home near Sheperdstown ; where, 
when he died in 1818, he left a large family of chil- 
dren, and a wide circle of friends and admirers. 



CHAPTER XI 
The Newspapers of the Revoi^ution 

WHAT we have been able to glean from the pe- 
riodicals of the day about the state of the 
prisons in New York during the years 1776 and 1777 
we will condense into one short chapter. 

We will also give an abstract taken from a note 
book written by General Jeremiah Johnson, who as a 
boy, lived near Wallabout Bay during the Revolution 
and who thus describes one of the first prison ships 
used by the British at New York. He says: "The 
subject of the naval prisoners, and of the British 
prisons-ships, stationed at the Wallabout during the 
Revolution, is one which cannot be passed by in si- 
lence. From printed journals, pubHshed in New 
York at the close of the war, it appeared that 
11,500 American prisoners had died on board the 
prison ships. Although this number is very great, yet 
if the numbers who perished had been less, the Com- 
missary of Naval Prisoners, David Sproat, Esq., and 
his Deputy, had it in their power, by an ojfficial Re- 
turn, to give the true number taken, exchanged, es- 
caped, and dead. Such a Return has never appeared 
in the United States. 

"David Sproat returned to America after the war, 
and resided in Philadelphia, where he died."^ The 
Commissary could not have been ignorant of the 
statement published here on this interesting subject. 
We may, therefore, infer that about that number, 
11,500, perished in the Prison ships. 

*This is, we believe, a mistake. Another account says 
he died at Kirkcudbright, Scotland, in 1792. 



I 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 91 

"A large transport called the Whitby, was the 
first prison ship anchored in the Wallabout. She was 
moored near Remsen's Mill about the 20th of Oc- 
tober, 1776, and was then crowded with prisoners. 
Many landsmen were prisoners on board this vessel: 
she was said to be the most sickly of all the prison 
ships. Bad provisions, bad water, and scanted ra- 
tions were dealt to the prisoners. No medical men 
attended the sick. Disease reigned unrelieved, and 
hundreds died from pestilence, or were starved on 
board this floating Prison. I saw the sand beach, 
between a ravine in the hill and Mr. Remsen's dock, 
become filled with graves in the course of two months : 
and before the first of May, 1777, the ravine alluded 
to was itself occupied in the same way. 

"In the month of May, 1777, two large ships were 
anchored in the Wallabout, when the prisoners were 
transferred from the Whitby to them. These vessels 
were also very sickly from the causes before stated. 
Although many prisoners were sent on board of 
them, and none exchanged, death made room for all. 

''On a Sunday afternoon about the middle of 
October, 1777, one of these prison ships was burnt. 
The prisoners, except a few, who, it was said, were 
burnt in the vessel, were removed to the remaining 
ship. It was reported at the time, that the prisoners 
had fired their prison, which, if true, proves that they 
preferred death, even by fire, to the lingering suf- 
ferings of pestilence and starvation. In the month 
of February, 1778, the remaining prison ship was 
burnt, when the prisoners were removed from her 
to the ships then wintering in the Wallabout." 

One of the first notices we have in the newspapers 
of the day of American prisoners is to the following 



92 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

effect: "London, August 5th, 1775. As every rebel, 
who is taken prisoner, has incurred the pain of 
death by the law martial, it is said that Government 
will charter several transports, after their arrival at 
Boston to carry the culprits to the East Indies for 
the Company's service. As it is the intention of Gov- 
ernment only to punish the ringleaders and com- 
manders capitally, and to suffer the inferior Rebels 
to redeem their lives by entering into the East India 
Company's service. This translation will only render 
them more useful subjects than in their native 
country." 

This notice, copied from London papers, appeared 
in Holt's New York Journal, for October 19th, 1775. 
It proved to be no idle threat. How many of our 
brave soldiers were sent to languish out their lives 
in the British possessions in India, and on the coast 
of Africa, we have no means of knowing. Few, in- 
deed, ever saw their homes again, but we will give, 
in a future chapter, the narrative of one who es- 
caped from captivity worse than death on the island 
of Sumatra. 

An account of the mobbing of William Cunning- 
ham and John Hill is given in both the Tory and 
Whig papers of the day. It occurred in March, 1775. 
''William Cunningham and John Hill were mobbed 
by 200 men in New York, dragged through the 
green, Cunningham was robbed of his watch and the 
clothes torn off his back, etc., for being a Tory, and 
having made himself obnoxious to the Americans. 
He has often been heard blustering in behalf of the 
ministry, and his behavior has recommended him to 
the favor of several men of eminence, both in the 
military and civil departments. He has often been 



I 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 93 

seen, on a footing of familiarity, at their houses, and 
parading the streets on a horse belonging to one of 
the gentlemen, etc., etc." 

The Virginia Gazette in its issue for the first of 
July, 1775, says : ''On June 6th, 1775, the prisoners 
taken at Lexington were exchanged. The wounded 
privates were soon sent on board the Levity. 
* * "^^ At about three a signal was made by the 
Levity that they were ready to deliver up our pris- 
oners, upon which General Putnam and Major Mon- 
crief went to the ferry, where they received nine 
prisoners. The regular officers expressed themselves 
as highly pleased, those who had been prisoners 
politely acknowledged the genteel kindness they had 
received from their captors; the privates, who were 
all wounded men, expressed in the strongest terms 
their grateful sense of the tenderness which had 
been shown them in their miserable situation; some 
of them could do it only by their tears. It would 
have been to the honor of the British arms if the 
prisoners taken from us could with justice have made 
the same acknowledgement. It cannot be supposed 
that any officers of rank or common humanity were 
knowing to the repeated cruel insults that were of- 
fered them; but it may not be amiss to hint to the 
upstarts concerned, two truths of which they appear 
to be wholly ignorant, viz : That compassion is as 
essential a part of the character of a truly brave man 
as daring, and that insult offered to the person com- 
pletely in the power of the insulters smells as strong 
of cowardice as it does of cruelty."* 

*"The first American prisoners were taken on the 17th 
of June, 1775. These were thrown indiscriminately into 
the jail at Boston without any consideration of their 



94 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

At the battle of the Great Bridge "the Virginia 
militia showed the greatest humanity and tenderness 
to the wounded prisoners. Several of them ran 
through a hot fire to lift up and bring in some that 
were bleeding, and whom they feared would die if 
not speedily assisted by the surgeon. The prisoners 
had been told by Lord Dunmore that the Americans 
would scalp them, and they cried out, 'For God's 
sake do not murder us!' One of them who was un- 
able to walk calling out in this manner to one of our 
men, was answered by him : Tut your arm about my 
neck and I'll show you what I intend to do.' Then 
taking him, with his arm over his neck, he walked 
slowly along, bearing him with great tenderness to 
the breastwork." Pennsylvania Evening Post, 
January 6th, 1776. 

The Great Bridge was built over the southern 
branch of the Elizabeth River, twelve miles above 
Norfolk. Colonel William Woodford commanded 
the Virginia militia on this occasion. 

''The scene closed with as much humanity as it 
had been conducted with bravery. The work of death 
being over, every one's attention was directed to the 
succor of the unhappy sufferers, and it is an un- 
doubted fact that Captain Leslie was so affected 
with the tenderness of our troops towards those who 

rank. General Washington wrote to General Gage on 
this subject, to which the latter replied by asserting that 
the prisoners had been treated with care and kindness, 
though indiscriminately, as he acknowledged no rank 
that was not derived from the King. General Carleton 
during his command conducted towards the American 
prisoners with a degree of humanity that reflected the 
greatest honor on his character." From Ramsay's "His- 
tory of the American Revolution." 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 95 

were yet capable of assistance that he gave signs 
from the fort of his thankfulness for it." Pennsyl- 
vania Evening Post, Jan. 6th, 1776. 

The first mention we can find of a British prison 
ship is in the New York Packet for the 11th of April, 
1776: ''Captain Hammond * * * Ordered Cap- 
tain Forrester, his prisoner, who was on board the 
Roebuck, up to the prison ship at Norfolk in a pilot 
boat." 

The Constitutional Gazette for the 19th of April, 
1776, has this announcement, and though it does not 
bear directly on the subject of prisoners, it de- 
scribes a set of men who were most active in taking 
them, and were considered by the Americans as more 
cruel and vindictive than even the British themselves. 

"Government have sent over to Germany to en- 
gage 1,000 men called Jagers, people brought up to 
the use of the rifle barrel guns in boar-hunting. They 
are amazingly expert. Every petty prince who hath 
forests keeps a number of them, and they are al- 
lowed to take apprentices, by which means they are 
a numerous body of people. These men are intended 
to act in the next campaign in America, and our 
ministry plume themselves much in the thought of 
their being a complete match for the American 
riflemen." 

From Gaine's Mercury, a notorious Tory paper 
published in New York during the British occupancy, 
we take the following: "November 25th, 1776. 
There are now 5,000 prisoners in town, many of them 
half naked. Congress deserts the poor wretches, 
— have sent them neither provisions nor clothing, nor 
paid attention to their distress nor that of their fam- 
ilies. Their situation must have been doubly de- 



96 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

plorable, but for the humanity of the King's officers. 
Every possible attention has been given, considering 
their great numbers and necessary confinement, to 
alleviate their distress arising from guilt, sickness, 
and poverty." 

This needs no comment. It is too unspeakably 
false to be worth contradicting. \ 

"New London, Conn., November 8th, 1776. 
Yesterday arrived E. Thomas, who was captured 
September 1st, carried to New York, and put on 
board the Chatham. He escaped Wednesday sen- 
night." 

"New London, Nov. 20th, 1776. American of- 
ficers, prisoners on parole, are walking about the 
streets of New York, but soldiers are closely con- 
fined, have but half allowance, are sickly, and die 
fast." 

"New London, Nov. 29th, 1776. A cartel arrived 
here for exchange of seamen only. Prisoners had 
miserable confinement on board of store ships and 
transports, where they suffered for want of the 
common necessaries of life." 

"Exact from a letter written on board the Whitby 
Prison Ship. New York, Dec. 9th, 1776. Our 
present situation is most wretched; more than 250 
prisoners, some sick and without the least assistance 
from physician, drug, or medicine, and fed on two- 
thirds allowance of salt provisions, and crowded 
promiscuously together without regard, to color, per- 
son or office, in the small room of a ship's between 
decks, allowed to walk the main deck only between 
sunrise and sunset. Only two at a time allowed to 
come on deck to do what nature requires, and some- 
times denied even that, arid use tubs and buckets 



American Prisoners of the RevoIvUtion 97 

between decks, to the great offence of every delicate, 
cleanly person, and prejudice of all our healths. Lord 
Howe has liberated all in the merchant service, but 
refuses to exchange those taken in arms but for like 
prisoners." (This is an extract from the Trumbull 
Papers.) 

From a Connecticut paper: "This may inform 
those who have friends in New York, prisoners of 
war, that Major Wells, a prisoner, has come thence 
to Connecticut on parole, to collect money for the 
much distressed officers and soldiers there, and de- 
sires the money may be left at Landlord Betts, Nor- 
walk; Captain Benjamin's, Stratford; Landlord 
Beers, New Haven; Hezekiah Wylly's, Hartford; 
and at said Well's, Colchester, with proper accounts 
from whom received, and to whom to be delivered. 
N. B. The letters must not be sealed, or contain any- 
thing of a political nature." Conn. Papers, Dec. 
6th, 1776. 

''Conn. Gazette, Feb. 8th, 1777. William Gam- 
ble deposes that the prisoners were huddled to- 
gether with negroes, had weak grog; no swab to 
clean the ship; bad oil; raw pork; seamen refused 

them water; called them d d rebels; the dead not 

buried, etc." 

"Lieut. Wm. Sterrett, taken August 27, 1776, de- 
poses that his clothing was stolen, that he was abused 
by the soldiers; stinted in food; etc., those who had 
slight wounds were allowed to perish from neglect. 
The recruiting officers seduced the prisoners to en- 
list, etc." 

"March 7th, 1777. Forty-six prisoners from the 
Glasgow, transport ship, were landed in New Haven, 
where one of them, Captain Craigie, died and was 
-7 



98 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

buried." (Their names are published in the Con- 
necticut Courant.) 

Connecticut Gazette of April 30th, 1777, says : 
"The Connecticut Assembly sent to New York a suf- 
ficient supply of tow shirts and trousers for her pris- 
oners, also i35 to Col. Ethan Allen, by his brother 
Levi." 

"Lt. Thos. Fanning, now on parole from Long 
Island at Norwich, a prisoner to General Howe, will 
be at Hartford on his return to New York about 
September 8th, whence he proposes to keep the public 
road to King's Bridge. Letters and money left at 
the most noted public houses in the different towns, 
will be conveyed safe to the prisoners. Extraordi- 
naries excepted." Connecticut Gazette, Aug. 
15th, 1777. 

"Jan. 8th, 77. A flag of truce vessel arrived at 
Milford after a tedious passage of eleven days, from 
New York, having above 200 prisoners, whose rueful 
countenances too well discovered the ill treatment 
they received in New York. Twenty died on the 
passage, and twenty since they landed." New 
Haven, Conn. 



CHAPTER XII 

The Trumbull Papers and Other Sources of 
Information 

WE WILL now quote from the Trumbull 
Papers and other productions, what is re- 
vealed to the public of the state of the prisoners in 
New York in 1776 and 1777. Some of our informa- 
tion we have obtained from a book published in 
1866 called "Documents and Letters Intended to Il- 
lustrate the Revolutionary Incidents of Long Island, 
by Henry Onderdonk, Jr." He gives an affecting 
account of the wounding of General Woodhull, after 
his surrender, and when he had given up his sword. 
The British ruffians who held him insisted that he 
should cry, "God save the King!" whereupon, taking 
off his hat, he replied, reverently, "God save all of 
us!" At this the cruel men ran him through, giving 
him wounds that proved mortal, though had they 
been properly dressed his life might have been 
spared. He was mounted behind a trooper and car- 
ried to Hinchman's Tavern, Jamaica, where permis- 
sion was refused to Dr. Ogden to dress his wounds. 
This was on the 28th of August, 1776. Next day 
he was taken westward and put on board an old 
vessel off New Utrecht. This had been a cattle ship. 
He was next removed to the house of Wilhelmus 
Van Brunt at New Utrecht. His arm mortified from 
neglect and it was decided to take it off. He sent 
express to his wife that he had no hope of recovery, 
and begged her to gather up what provisions she 
could, for he had a large farm, and hasten to his bed- 
side. She accordingly loaded a wagon with bread, 



100 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

ham, crackers, butter, etc., and barely reached her 
husband in timfe to see him ahve. With his dying 
breath he requested her to distribute the provisions 
she had brought to the suffering and starving Ameri- 
can prisoners. 

EHas Baylis, who was old and blind, was chairman 
of the Jamaica Committee of Safety. He was cap- 
tured and first imprisoned in the church at New 
Utrecht. Afterwards he was sent to the provost 
prison in New York. He had a very sweet voice, 
and was an earnest Christian. In the prison he used 
to console himself and his companions in misery by 
singing hymns and psalms. Through the interven- 
tion of his friends, his release was obtained after 
two months confinement, but the rigor of prison life 
had been too much for his feeble frame. He died, in 
the arms of his daughter, as he was in a boat cross- 
ing the ferry to his home. 

While in the Presbyterian church in New Utrecht 
used as a prison by the British, he had for compan- 
ions, Daniel Duryee, William Furman, William 
Creed, and two others, all put into one pew. Baylis 
asked them to get the Bible out of the pulpit and 
read it to him. They feared to do this, but con- 
sented to lead the blind man to the pulpit steps. As 
he returned with the Bible in his hands a British 
guard met him, beat him violently and took away the 
book. They were three weeks in the church at New 
Utrecht. When a sufficient number of Whig pris- 
oners were collected there they would be marched 
under guard to a prison ship. One old Whig named 
Smith, while being conducted to his destination, ap- 
pealed to an onlooker, a Tory of his acquaintance, to 
intercede for him. The cold reply of his neighbor 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 101 

was, "Ah, John, you've been a great rebel!" Smith 
turned to another of his acquaintances named 
McEvers, and said to him, *'McEvers, its hard for an 
old man like me to have to go to a prison ! Can't you 
do something for me?" 

"What have you been doing, John?" 
"Why, I've had opinions of my own !" 
"Well, I'll see what I can do for you." 
McEvers then went to see the officers in charge 
and made such representations to them that Smith 
was immediately released. 

Adrian Onderdonk was taken to Flushing and 
shut up in the old Friends' Meeting House there, 
which is one of the oldest places of worship in Amer- 
ica. Next day he was taken to New York. He, with 
other prisoners, was paraded through the streets to 
the provost, with a gang of loose women marching 
before them, to add insult to suffering. 

Onderdonk says: "After awhile the rigor of the 
prison rules was somewhat abated." He was al- 
lowed to write home, which he did in Dutch, for pro- 
visions, such as smoked beef, butter, etc. * * * 
His friends procured a woman to do his washing, 
prepare food and bring it to him. * * * One 
day as he was walking through the rooms followed 
by his constant attendant, a negro with coils of rope 
around his neck, this man asked Onderdonk what 
he was imprisoned for. 

" 'I've been a Committee man,' " said he. 
" 'Well,' with an oath and a great deal of abuse, 
'You shall be hung tomorrow.' " 

This mulatto was named Richmond, and was the 
common hangman. He used to parade the provost 
with coils of ropes, requesting the prisoners to choose 



102 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

their own halters. He it was who hung the gallant 
Nathan Hale, and was Cunningham's accessory in all 
his brutal midnight murders. In Gaine's paper for 
August 4th, 1781, appears the following advertise- 
ment: ''One Guinea Reward, ran away a black man 
named Richmond, being the common hangman, form- 
erly the property of the rebel Colonel Patterson of Pa. 

"Wm. Cunningham." 

After nearly four weeks imprisonment the friends 
of Adrian Onderdonk procured his release. He was 
brought home in a wagon in the night, so pale, thin, 
and feeble from bodily suffering that his family 
scarcely recognized him. His constitution was 
shattered and he never recovered his former strength. 

Onderdonk says that women often brought food 
for the prisoners in little baskets, which, after exam- 
ination, were handed in. Now and then the guard 
might intercept what was sent, or Cunningham, if 
the humor took him, as he passed through the hall, 
might kick over vessels of soup, placed there by the 
charitable for the poor and friendless prisoners. 

extract from a letter from dr. SILAS HOLMES 

"The wounded prisoners taken at the battle of 
Brooklyn were put in the churches of Flatbush and 
New Utrecht, but being neglected and unattended 
were wallowing in their own filth, and breathed an 
infected and impure air. Ten days after the battle 
Dr. Richard Bailey was appointed to superintend the 
sick. He was humane, and dressed the wounded 
daily; got a sack bed, sheet, and blanket for each 
prisoner; and distributed the prisoners into the ad- 
jacent barns. When Mrs. Woodhull offered to pay 
Dr. Bailey for his care and attention to her husband. 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 103 

he said he had done no more than his duty, and if 
there was anything due it was to me." 

Woodhull's wounds were neglected nine days be- 
fore Dr. Bailey was allowed to attend them. 

How long the churches were used as prisons can- 
not be ascertained, but we have no account of prison- 
ers confined in any of them after the year 1777. In 
the North Dutch Church in New York there were, 
at one time, eight hundred prisoners huddled to- 
gether. It was in this church that bayonet marks 
were discernible on its pillars, many years after 
the war. 

The provost and old City Hall were used as 
prisons until Evacuation Day, when O'Keefe threw 
his ponderous bunch of keys on the floor and re- 
tired. The prisoners are said to have asked him 
where they were to go. 

"To hell, for what I care," he repHed. 

"In the Middle Dutch Church," says Mr. John 
Pintard, who was a nephew of Commissary Pintard, 
"the prisoners taken on Long Island and at Fort 
Washington, sick, wounded, ' and well, were all in- 
discriminately huddled together, by hundreds and 
thousands, large numbers of whom died by disease, 
and many undoubtedly poisoned by inhuman attend- 
ants for the sake of their watches, or silver buckles." 

"What was called the Brick Church was at first 
used as a prison, but soon it and the Presbyterian 
Church in Wall Street, the Scotch Church in Cedar 
Street, and the Friends' Meeting House were con- 
verted into hospitals." 

Oliver Woodruff, who died at the age of ninety, 
was taken prisoner at Fort Washington, and left 
the following record: "We were marched to New 



104 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

York and went into different prisons. Eight hundred 
and sixteen went into the New Bridewell (between 
the City Hall and Broadway) ; some into the Sugar 
House; others into the Dutch Church. On Thursday 
morning they brought us a little provision, which 
was the first morsel we got to eat or drink after 
eating our breakfast on Saturday morning. * * * 
I was there (in New Bridewell) three months. In 
the dungeons of the old City Hall which stood on the 
site of what was afterwards the Custom House at 
first civil offenders were confined, but afterwards 
whale-boatmen and robbers." 

Robert Troup, a young lieutenant in Colonel 
Lasher's battalion, testified that he and Lieut. Edward 
Dunscomb, Adjutant Hoogland, and two volunteers 
were made prisoners by a detachment of British 
troops at three o'clock a. m. on the 27th of August, 
1776. They were carried before the generals and in- 
terrogated, with threats of hanging. Thence they 
were led to a house near Flatbush. At 9 a. m. they 
were led, in the rear of the army, to Bedford. 
Eighteen officers captured that morning were con- 
fined in a small soldier's tent for two nights and 
nearly three days. It was raining nearly all the time. 
Sixty privates, also, had but one tent, while at Bed- 
ford the provost marshal, Cunningham, brought with 
him a negro with a halter, telling them the negro 
had already hung several, and he imagined he would 
hang some more. The negro and Cunningham also 
heaped abuse upon the prisoners, showing them the 
halter, and calling them rebels, scoundrels, robbers, 
murderers, etc. 

From Bedford they were led to Flatbush, and con- 
fined a week in a house belonging to a Mr. Leffert, 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 105 

on short allowance of biscuit and salt pork. Several 
Hessians took pity on them and gave them apples, 
and once some fresh beef. 

From Flatbush after a week, he, with seventy or 
eighty other officers, were put on board a snow, lying 
between Gravesend and the Hook, without bedding 
or blankets; afflicted with vermin; soap and fresh 
water for washing purposes being denied them. They 
drank and cooked with filthy water brought from 
England. The captain charged a very large commis- 
sion for purchasing necessaries for them with the 
money they procured from their friends. 

After six weeks spent on the snow they were 
taken on the 17th of October to New York and con- 
fined in a house near Bridewell. At first they were 
not allowed any fuel, and afterwards only a little 
coal for three days in the week. Provisions were 
dealt out very negligently, were scanty, and of bad 
quality. Many were ill and most of them would 
have died had their wants not been supplied by poor 
people and loose wom.en of the town, who took pity 
on them. 

"Shortly after the capture of Fort Washington 
these officers were paroled and allowed the freedom 
of the town. Nearly half the prisoners taken on 
Long Island died. The privates were treated with 
great inhumanity, without fuel, or the common nec- 
essaries of life, and were obHged to obey the calls 
of nature in places of their confinement." It is said 
that the British did not hang any of the prisoners 
taken in August on Long Island, but "played the fool 
by making them ride with a rope around their necks, 
seated on coffins, to the gallows. Major Otho Wil- 
liams was so treated." 



106 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

"Adolph Myer, late of Colonel Lasher's battalion, 
says he was taken by the British at Montresor's 
Island. They threatened twice to hang him, and had 
a rope fixed to a tree. He was led to General Howe's 
quarters near Turtle Bay, who ordered him to be 
bound hand and foot. He was confined four days 
on bread and water, in the 'condemned hole' of the 
New Jail, without straw or bedding. He was next 
put into the College, and then into the New Dutch 
Church, whence he escaped on the twenty-fourth of 
January, 1777. He was treated with great inhuman- 
ity, and would have died had he not been supported 
by his friends. * * * Many prisoners died from 
want, and others were reduced to such wretchedness 
as to attract the attention of the loose women of the 
town, from whom they received considerable assist- 
ance. No care was taken of the sick, and if any 
died they were thrown at the door of the prison and 
lay there until the next day, when they were put in a 
cart and drawn out to the intrenchments beyond the 
Jews' burial ground, when they were interred by their 
fellow prisoners, conducted thither for that purpose. 
The dead were thrown into a hole promiscuously, 
without the usual rites of sepulchre. Myer was 
frequently enticed to enlist." This is one of the few 
accounts we have from a prisoner who was confined 
in one of the churches in New York, and he was 
so fortunate as to escape before it was too late. We 
wish he had given the details of his escape. In such 
a gloomy picture as we are obliged to present to 
our readers the only high lights are occasional acts 
of humanity, and such incidents as fortunate escapes. 

It would appear, from many proofs, that the Hes- 
sian soldier was naturally a good-natured being, and 



American Prisoners of the Revoi^ution 107 

he seems to have been the most humane of the prison 
guards. We will see, as we go on, instances of the 
kindness of these poor exiled mercenaries, to many 
of whom the war was almost as great a scene of 
calamity and suffering as it was to the wretched pris- 
oners under their care. 

"Lieutenant Catlin, taken September 15th, 76, was 
confined in prison with no sustenance for forty-eight 
hours; for eleven days he had only two days allow- 
ance of pork offensive to the smell, bread hard, 
mouldy and wormy, made of canail and dregs of 
flax-seed; water brackish. 'I have seen $1.50 given 
for a common pail full. Three or four pounds of 
poor Irish pork were given to three men for three 
days. In one church were 850 prisoners for near 
three months.' " 

"About the 25th of December he with 225 men 
were put on board the Glasgow at New York to be 
carried to Connecticut for exchange. They were 
aboard eleven days, and kept on coarse broken 
bread, and less pork than before, and had no fire for 
sick or well; crowded between decks, where twenty- 
eight died through ill-usage and cold." (This is 
taken from the "History of Litchfield," page 39.) 

EXTRACT FROM A I^ETTER DATED NEW YORK, DEC. 

26, 1776 

"The distress of the prisoners cannot be communi- 
cated in words. Twenty or thirty die every day; 
they He in heaps unburied; what numbers of my 
countrymen have died by cold and hunger, perished 
for want of the common necessaries of life! I have 
seen it! This, sir, is the boasted British clemency! 
I myself had well nigh perished under it. The 



108 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

New England people can have no idea of such bar- 
barous policy. Nothing can stop such treatment but 
retaUation. I ever despised private revenge, but that 
of the public must be in this case, both 'just and 
necessary; it is due to the manes of our murdered 
countrymen, and that alone can protect the sur- 
vivors in the like situation. Rather than experience 
again their barbarity and insults, may I fall by the 
sword of the Hessians." 

Onderdonk, who quotes this fragment, gives us no 
clue to the writer. A man named S. Young testifies 
that, "he was taken at Fort Washington and, with 
500 prisoners, was kept in a barn, and had no pro- 
visions until Monday night, when the enemy threw 
into the stable^ in a confused manner, as if to so 
many hogs, a quantity of biscuits in crumbs, mostly 
mouldy, and some crawling with maggots, which the 
prisoners were obliged to scramble for without any 
division. Next day they had a little pork which 
they were obliged to eat raw. Afterwards they got 
sometimes a bit of pork, at other times biscuits, peas, 
and rice. They were confined two weeks in a church, 
where they suffered greatly from cold, not being al- 
lowed any fire. Insulted by soldiers, women, and 
even negroes. Great numbers died, three, four, or 
more, sometimes, a day. Afterwards they were car- 
ried on board a ship, where 500 were confined below 
decks." 

The date of this testimony is given as Dec. 15th, 
1776: '*W. D. says the prisoners were roughly used 
at Harlem on their way from Fort Washington to 
New York, where 800 men were stored in the New 
Bridewell, which was a cold, open house, the win- 
dows not glazed. They had not one mouthful from 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 109 

early Saturday morning until ^Monday. Rations per 
man for three days were half a pound of biscuit, 
half a pound of pork, half a gill cf rice, half a pint 
of peas, and half an ounce of butter, the whole not 
enough for one good meal, and they were defrauded 
in this petty allowance. They had no straw to lie 
on, no fuel but one cart load per week for 800 men. 
At nine o'clock the Hessian guards would come and 
put out the fire, and lay on the poor prisoners with 
heavy clubs, for sitting around the fire. 

"The water was very bad, as well as the bread. 
Prisoners died like rotten sheep, with cold, hunger, 
and dirt; and those who had good apparel, such as 
buckskin breeches, or good coats, were necessitated 
to sell them to purchase bread to keep them alive." 
Hinman, page 277. 

"IMrs. White left New York Jan. 20th, 1777. She 
says Bridewell, the College, the New Jail, the Baptist 
Meeting House, and the tavern lately occupied by 
Mr. De la .^lontaigne and several other houses are 
filled with sick and wounded of the enemy. General 
Lee was under guard in a small mean house at the 
foot of King Street. AVm. Slade says 800 prisoners 
taken at Fort Washington were put into the North 
church. On the first of December 300 were taken 
from the church to the prison ship. December sec- 
ond he, with others, was marched to the Grosvenor 
transport in the North River ; five hundred were 
crowded on board. He had to lie down before sun- 
set to secure a place." Trumbull Papers. 

"Henry Franklin affirms that about two days after 
the taking of Fort Washington he was in New York, 
and went to the North Church, in which were about 
800 prisoners taken in said Fort. He inquired into 



110 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

their treatment, and they told him they fared hard 
on account both of provisions and lodging, for they 
were not allowed any bedding, or blankets, and the 
provisions had not been regularly dealt out, so that 
the modest or backward could get little or none, nor 
had they been allowed any fuel to dress their vic- 
tuals. The prisoners in New York were very sickly, 
and died in considerable numbers." 

"Feb. 11, 1777. Joshua Loring, Commissary of 
Prisoners, says that but little provisions had been 
sent in by the rebels for their prisoners." Gaine's 
Mercury. 

Jan. 4th. 1777. ''Seventy-seven prisoners went 
into the Sugar House. N. Murray says 800 men 
were in Bridewell. The doctor gave poison powders 
to the prisoners, who soon died. Some were sent 
to Honduras to cut logwood; women came to the 
prison-gate to sell gingerbread." Trumbull Papers. 

The New York Gazette of May 6th, 1777, states 
that "of 3000 prisoners taken at Fort Washington, 
only 800 are living." 

Mr. Onderdonk says : "There seems to have been 
no systematic plan adopted by the citizens of New 
York for the relief of the starving prisoners. We 
have scattering notices of a few charitable indi- 
viduals, such as, the following: — 'Mrs. Deborah 
Franklin was banished from New York Nov. 21st, 
1780, by the British commandant, for her un- 
bounded liberality to the American prisoners. Mrs. 
Ann Mott was associated with Mrs. Todd and Mrs. 
Whitten in relieving the sufferings of American 
prisoners in New York, during the Revolution. John 
Fillis died at Halifax, 1792, aged 68. He was kind 
to American prisoners in New York. Jacob Watson, 
Penelope Hull, etc., are also mentioned.' " 



American Prisoners of i he Revolution 1 1 1 - 

BRITISH ACCOUNT OF MORTALITY OF PRISONERS 

"P. Dobbyn, master of a transport, thus writes 
from New York, Jan. 15th, 1777. 'We had four or 
five hundred prisoners on board our ships, but they 
had such bad distempers that each ship buried ten or 
twelve a day.' Another writer, under date of Jan. 
14th, 77, says, 'The Churches are full of American 
prisoners, who die so fast that 25 or 30 are buried 
at a time, in New York City. General Howe gave 
all who could walk their liberty, after taking their 
oath not to take up arms against his Majesty.' " 
(From a London Journal.) 



CHAPTER XIII 

A Journal Kept in the Provost 

AN OLD man named John Fell was taken up by 
the British, and confined for some months in 
the Provost prison. He managed to secrete writing 
materials and made notes of his treatment. He was 
imprisoned for being a Whig and one of the council- 
men of Bergen, New Jersey. We will give his 
journal entire, as it is quoted by Mr. Onderdonk. 

April 23rd, 1777. Last night I was taken prisoner 
from my house by 25 armed men (he lived in 
Bergen) who brought me down to Colonel Buskirk's 
at Bergen Point, and from him I was sent to Gen. 
Pigot, at N. Y., who sent me with Captain Van Allen 
to the Provost Jail. 

24th. Received from Mrs. Curzon, by the hands 
of Mr. Amiel, $16, two shirts, two stocks, some tea, 
sugar, pepper, towels, tobacco, pipes, paper, and a 
ted and bedding. 

May 1st. Dr. Lewis Antle and Capt. Thomas 
Colden at the door, refused admittance. 

May 2nd. 6.10 P. M. died John Thomas, of small- 
pox, aged 70 & inoculated. 

5th. Capt. Colden has brought from Mr. Cur- 
son $16.00. 

11. Dr. Antle came to visit me. Nero at the door. 
(A dog?) 

13. Cold weather. 

20. Lewis Pintard came per order of Elias 
Boudinot to offer me money. Refused admittance. 
Capt. Colden came to visit me. 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 113 

21. Capt and Mrs Corne came to visit me, and I 
was called downstairs to see them. 

23. Lewis Pintard came as Commissary to take 
account of officers, in order to assist them with 
money. 

24. Every person refused admittance to the Prov- 
ost. 

25. Ail prisoners paraded in the hall: supposed to 
look for deserters. 

27. Rev. Mr. Hart and Col. Smith brought to the 
Provost from Long Island. 

29. Stormy in Provost. 

30. Not allowed to fetch good water. 

31. Bad water; proposing buying tea-water, but 
refused. This night ten prisoners from opposite room 
ordered into ours, in all twenty. 

June 1. Continued the same today. 

2. The people ordered back to their own room. 

3. Captain Van Zandt sent to the dungeon for 
resenting Captain Cunningham's insulting and abus- 
ing me. 

4. Capt. Adams brought into our room. At 9 P, 
M. candles ordered out. 

7. Captain Van Zandt returned from the dungeon. 

8. All prisoners paraded and called over and de- 
livered to care of Sergt. Keath. (O'Keefe, probably.) 
And told we are all alike, no distinction to be made. 

10. Prisoners very sickly. 

11. Mr Richards from Connecticut exchanged. 

12. Exceeding strict and severe. ''Out Lights !" 

13. Melancholy scene, women refused speaking to 
their sick husbands, and treated cruelly by sentries. 

14. Mr. James Ferris released on parole. People 
in jail very sickly and not allowed a doctor. 

—8 



114 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

17. Capt. Corne came to speak to me; not allowed. 

18. Letter from prisoners to Sergeant Keath, re- 
questing more privileges. 

19. Received six bottles claret and sundry small 
articles, but the note not allowed to come up. 

20. Memorandum sent to Gen. Pigot with list of 
grievances. 

21. Answered. "Grant no requests made by pris- 
oners." 

22. Mrs. Banta refused speaking to her son. 

23. Mr Haight died. 

24. Nineteen prisoners from Brunswick. Eighteen 
sent to the Sugar House. 

25. Dr Bard came to visit Justice Moore, but his 
wife was refused, tho' her husband was dying. 

26. Justice Moore died and was carried out. 

27. Several sick people removed below. 
30. Provost very sickly and some die. 

July 3. Received from Mrs Curson per Mrs. Mar- 
riner, two half Joes. 

6. Received of E. Boudinot, per Pintard, ten half 
Joes. 

7. Capt. Thomas Golden came to the grates to 
see me. 

9. Two men carried out to be hung for desertion, 
reprieved. 

11. Mr Langdon brought into our room. 

13. The Sergeant removed a number of prisoners 
from below. 

14. Messrs Demarests exchanged. Dr. Romaine 
ordered to visit the sick. 

15. A declaration of more privileges, and prison- 
ers allowed to speak at the windows. 

17. Peter Zabriskie had an order to speak with me, 
and let me know that all was well at home 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 115 

19. Sergt. from Sugar House came to take account 
of officers in the Provost. Capt. Cunningham in 
town. 

21. Sergt. took account of officers. Capt. Jas. 
Lowry died. 

22. Mr. Miller died. Capt. Lowry buried. 
Aug. 1. Very sick. Weather very hot. 

5. Barry sent to the dungeon for bringing rum for 
Mr PhilHps without leave of the Sergt. Everything 
looks stormy. 

6. Warm weather. Growing better. Mr. Pintard 
came to supply prisoners of war with clothes. 

10. Two prisoners from Long Island and four 
Lawrences from Tappan. 

11. John Coven Cromwell from White Plains. 
Freeland from Polly (?) Fly whipped about salt. 

12. Sergt, Keath took all pens and ink out of each 
room, and forbid the use of any on pain of the 
dungeon. 

13. Abraham Miller discharged. 

14. Jacobus Blauvelt died in the morning, buried 
at noon. 

16. Capt. Ed. Travis brought into our room from 
the dungeon, where he had long been confined and 
cruelly treated. 

17. Mr. Keath refused me liberty to send a card 
to Mr Amiel for a lb of tobacco. 

21. Capt. Hyer discharged from the Provost. 

25. Barry brought up from the dungeon, and 
Capt. Travis sent down again without any provo- 
cation. 

26. Badcock sent to dungeon for cutting wood in 
the evening. Locks put on all the doors, and threat- 
ened to be locked up. Col. Ethan Allen brought to 
the Provost from Long Island and confined below. 



116 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

27. Badcock discharged from below. 

30. 5 P. M. all rooms locked up close. 

31. A. M. Col Allen brought into our room. 
Sep. 1. Pleasant weather. Bad water. 

4. Horrid scenes of whipping. 

6. Lewis Pintard brought some money for the of- 
ficers. P. M. Alajor Otho H. Williams brought from 
Long Island and confined in our room. Major Wells 
from same place confined below. A. M. William 
Lawrence of Tappan died. 

8. Campbell, Taylor, John Cromwell, and Buchanan 
from Philadelphia discharged. 

10. Provisions exceedingly ordinary, — pork very 
rusty, biscuit bad. 

12. Capt. Travis, Capt. Chatham and others 
brought out of dungeon. 

14. Two prisoners from Jersey, viz: Thomas 
Campbell of Newark and Joralemon. (Jos. Lemon?) 

16. Troops returned from Jersey. Several prison- 
ers brought to Provost viz: — Capt. Varick, Wm. 
Prevost Brower, etc. Seventeen prisoners from 
Long Island. 

22. Nothing material. Major Wells brought from 
below upstairs. 

24. Received from Mr. Curson per Mr. Amiel four 
guineas, six bottles of wine, and one tb tobacco. 

26. Mr. Pintard carried list of prisoners and ac- 
count of grievances to the General Capt. Chatham 
and others carried to dungeon. 

28. Yesterday a number of soldiers were sent be- 
low, and several prisoners brought out of dungeon. 
Statement of grievances presented to General Jones 
which much displeased Sergt. Keath who threatened 
to lock up the rooms. 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 117 

29. Last night Sergt. K. locked up all the rooms. 
Rev. Mr. Jas. Sears was admitted upstairs. 

30. Sent Mr. Pintard a list of clothing wanted for 
continental and state prisoners in the Provost. Sergt. 
locks up all the rooms. 

Oct. 2. Candles ordered out at eight. — Not 
locked up. 

4. Locked up. Great numbers of ships went up 
North River. Received sundries from Grove Bend. 
Three pair ribbed hose, three towels. 

5. Garret Miller, of Smith's Cove, signed his will 
in prison, in presence of Benjamin Goldsmith, Abr. 
Skinner, and myself. C. G. Miller died of small-pox 
—P. M. Buried. 

7. Wm. Prevost discharged from Provost. 

8. Capt. Chatham and Lewis Thatcher brought out 
of dungeon. 

10. Mr. Pintard sent up blankets, shoes, and stock- 
ings for the prisoners. 

12. Lt. Col. Livingstone and upwards of twenty 
officers from Fort Montgomery and Clinton, all 
below. 

13. Received from Mr. Pintard a letter by flag 
from Peter R. Fell, A. M. Mr. Noble came to the 
grates to speak to me. 

14. Sergt. Keath sent Lt. Mercer and Mr. Nath. 
Fitzrandolph to the dungeon for complaining that 
their room had not water sufficient. 

15. Mr. Pintard brought sundry articles for the 
prisoners. 

17. Mr. Antonio and other prisoners brought here 
from up North River. 

19. Ben Goldsmith ill of smallpox, made his will 
and gave it to me. Died two A. M. Oct. 20. 



1 18 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

21. Glorious news from the Northward. 

22. Confirmation strong as Holy Writ. Beef, loaf 
bread, and butter drawn today. 

23. Weather continues very cold. Ice in the tub 
in the hall. A number of vessels came down North 
River. Mr. Wm. Bayard at the door to take out old 
Mr. Morris. 

24. Prisoners from the Sugar House sent on board 
ships. 

25. Rev. Mr. Hart admitted on parole in the city. 
Sergt. Woolley from the Sugar House came to take 
names of officers, and says an exchange is expected. 

28. Last night and today storm continues very 
severe. Provost in a terrible condition. Lt. Col. 
Livingston admitted upstairs a few minutes. 

Nov. 1. Lt. Callender of the train ordered back 
on Long Island; also several officers taken at Fort 
Montgomery sent on parole to Long Island. 

3. In the evening my daughter, Elizabeth Colden, 
came to see me, accompained by Mayor Matthews. 

5. Elizabeth Colden came to let me know she was 
going out of town. Yesterday Sergt. refused her the 
liberty of speaking to me. Gen. Robertson's Aid-de- 
camp came to inquire into grievances of prisoners. 

16. Jail exceedingly disagreeable. — many miserable 
and shocking objects, nearly starved with cold and 
hunger, — miserable prospect before me. 

18. The Town Major and Town Adjutant came 
with a pretence of viewing the jail. 

19. Peter and Cor. Van Tassel, two prisoners from 
Tarry town, in our room. 

20. Mr. Pintard sent three barrels of flour to be 
distributed among the prisoners. 

21. Mr. Pintard came for an account of what 
clothing the prisoners wanted. 



American Prisoners of the REVOiyUTioN 119 

24. Six tailors brought here from prison ship to 
work in making clothes for prisoners. They say the 
people on board are very sickly. Three hundred sent 
on board reduced to one hundred. 

25. Mr. Dean and others brought to jail from the 
town. 

26. Dean locked up by himself, and Mr. Forman- 
brought upstairs attended by Rev. Mr. Inglis, and 
afterwards ordered downstairs. New order — one of 
the prisoners ordered to go to the Commissary's and 
see the provisions dealt out for the prisoners. Vast 
numbers of people assembled at the Provost in ex- 
pectation of seeing an execution. 

27. John, one of the milkmen, locked upstairs with 
a sentry at his door. A report by Mr. Webb that a 
prisoner. Herring, was come down to be exchanged 
for Mr Van Zandt or me. 

30. Captain Cunningham came to the Provost. 
Dec. 1. Capt. Money came down with Mr Webb to 
be exchanged for Major Wells. 

2. Col. Butler visited the Provost and promised a 
doctor should attend. Received from Mr Bend cloth 
for a great coat, etc. Mr. Pintard took a list of cloth- 
ing wanted for the prisoners. 

3. Several prisoners of war sent from here on 
board the prison shop, & some of the sick sent to 
the hospital, Dr Romaine being ordered by Sir H. 
Clinton to examine the sick Prisoners sickly : cause, 
cold. Prisoners in upper room (have) scanty cloth- 
ing and only two bushels of coal for room of twenty 
men per week. 

5. Mr. Blanch ordered out; said to be to go to 
Morristown to get prisoners exchanged. Cold. 

7. Mr. Webb came to acquaint Major Wells his 
exchange was agreed to with Capt. Money. 



120 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

8. Major Gen. Robertson, with Mayor came to 
Provost to examine prisoners. I was called and ex- 
amined, and requested m}^ parole. The General said 
I had made bad use of indulgence granted me, in let- 
ting my daughter come to see me. * * * 

9. Major Wells exchanged. 

10. Mr. Pintard sent 100 loaves for the prisoners. 
A. M. Walter Thurston died. Prisoners very sickly 
and die very fast from the hospitals and prison ships. 

11. Some flags from North River. 

12. Abel Wells died, a tailor from the prison ship. 
Mr. Pintard brought letters for sundry people. 

14. Sunday. Guards more severe than ever not- 
withstanding General Robertson's promise of more 
indulgence. Capt. Van Zandt brought from Long Is- 
land. 

16. Sent message to Mr Pintard for wood. Cold 
and entirely out of wood. 

17. Commissary Winslow came and released Major 
Winslow on his parole on Long Island. 

18. ]\Ir Pintard sent four cords of wood for the 
prisoners. 

19. Capt. John Paul Schoot released on parole. Mr 
Pintard with clothing for the people. 

21. A paper found at the door of the Provost, in- 
timating that three prisoners had a rope concealed in 
a bag in one of the rooms in order to make their es- 
cape. The Sergt. examined all the rooms, and at 
night we were all locked up. 

22. Received from Mr Pintard 100 loaves and a 
quarter of beef. 

24. Distributed clothing, etc., to the prisoners. 
28. Gen. Robertson sent a doctor to examine me in 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 121 

consequence of the petition sent by Col. x\llen for my 
releasement. The doctor reported to Dr. Mallet. 

29. Gen. Robertson sent me word I should be lib- 
erated in town, provided I procured a gentleman in 
town to be responsible for my appearance. Accord- 
ingly I wrote to Hon. H. White, Esq. 

30. Dr Romaine, with whom I sent the letter, said 
Mr White had a number of objections, but the doc- 
tor hoped to succeed in the afternoon. Mr. Winslow 
came and told the same story I heard the day before. 

31. Sergt. Keath brought a message from the Gen- 
eral to the same purpose as yesterday. N. B. I lost 
the mem.oranda from this date to the time of my 
being liberated from the Provost on Jan. 7, 1778. 

New York Feb. 11. '78. Received a letter from 
Joshua Loring, Esq, Commissary of Prisoners, with 
leave from Gen. Robertson for my having the bounds 
of the city allowed me. 

March. 23. Wrote to Major Gen. Robertson and 
told him this was the eleventh month of my imprison- 
ment." 

Fell's note to the general follows, in which he begs 
to be Hberated to the house of Mrs. Marriner, who 
kept an ordinary' in the town. A card in reply from 
the general states that it is impossible to comply with 
his request until Mr. Fell's friends give him suffi- 
cient security that he will not attempt to escape. A 
]\Ir. Langdon having broken his faith in like circum- 
stances has given rise to a rule, which it is out of the 
general's power to dispense wdth, etc, etc. 

"Feb. 4, 1778. I delivered to Mr. Pintard the wills 
of Garret INIiller and Benjamin Goldsmith, to be for- 
v.-arded to their respective families. Present E. 
Boudinot. 



122 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

"May 20 78. I had my parole extended by order 
of Gen. Daniel Jones, to my own house in Bergen 
County, for thirty days. 

"July 2. I left town, and next day arrived safe 
home. 

"Nov. 15, 1778 I received a certificate from A. 
Skinner, Deputy Com. of Prisoners of my being ex- 
changed for Gov. Skene. Signed by Joshua Loring, 
Commissary General of Prisoners, dated New York, 
Oct 26 1778." 



CHAPTER XIV 

Further Testimony of Cruelties Endured by 
American Prisoners 

MR. FELL'S notes on his imprisonment present 
the best picture we can find of the condition 
of the Provost Jail during the term of his captivity. 
We have already seen how Mr Elias Boudinot, Amer- 
ican Commissary of Prisoners, came to that place of 
confinement, and what he found there. This was in 
February, 1778. Boudinot also describes the suffer- 
ings of the American prisoners in the early part of 
1778 in Philadelphia, and Mr. Fell speaks of Cun- 
ningham's return to New York. He had, it appears, 
been occupied in starving prisoners in Philadelphia 
during his absence from the Provost, to which Gen- 
eral Howe sent him back, after he had murdered one 
of his victims in Philadelphia with the great key. 

It appears that the prisoners in the Provost sent an 
account of their treatment to General Jones, by Mr. 
Pintard, in September, 1777, several months before 
the visit of Mr. Elias Boudinot. They complained 
that they were closely confined in the jail without 
distinction of rank or character, amongst felons, a 
number of whom were under sentence of death : that 
their friends were not allowed to speak to them, even 
through the grates : that they were put on the scanty 
allowance of two pounds hard biscuit, and two pounds 
of raw pork per week, without fuel to dress it. That 
they were frequently supplied with water from a 
pump where all kinds of filth was thrown, by which 
it was rendered obnoxious and unwholesome, the ef- 
fects of which were to cause much sickness. That 



124 American Prisoners of the Revoi^ution 

good water could have been as easily obtained. That 
they were denied the benefit of a hospital ; not per- 
mitted to send for medicine, nor to have the services 
of a doctor, even when in the greatest distress. That 
married men and others who lay at the point of death 
were refused permission to have their wives or other 
relations admitted to see them. And that these poor 
women, for attempting to gain admittance, were of- 
ten beaten from the prison door. That commissioned 
officers, and others, persons of character and reputa- 
tion, were frequently, without a cause, thrown into 
a loathsome dungeon, insulted in a gross manner, and 
vilely abused by a Provost Marshal, who was al- 
lowed to be one of the basest characters in the Brit- 
ish Army, and whose power was so unhmited, that 
he had caned an officer, on a trivial occasion; and 
frequently beaten the sick privates when unable to 
stand, ''many of whom are daily obliged to enlist in 
the New Corps to prevent perishing for want of the 
necessaries of Hfe. 

''Neither pen, ink, or paper allowed (to prevent 
their treatment being made public) the consequence 
of which indeed, the prisoners themselves dread, 
knowing the malignant disposition of their keeper." 

The Board of War reported on the 21 of January, 
1778, that there were 900 privates and 300 officers 
in New York, prisoners, and that "the privates have 
been crowded all summer in sugar houses, and the 
officers boarded on Long Island, except about thirty, 
who have been confined in the Provost-Guard, and in 
most loathsome jails, and that since Oct. 1st, all those 
prisoners, both officers and privates, have been con- 
fined in prisons, prison ships, or the Provost." Lists 
of prisoners in the Provost; those taken by the Fal- 



Americ an Prisoners of the Revolution 125 

con, Dec. 177/, and those belonging to Connecticut 
who were in the Quaker and Brick Meeting House 
hospitals in Jan. 1778, may be found in the Trumbull 
Papers, VII, 62. 

It seems that General Lee, while a prisoner in New 
York, in 1778, drew a prize of $500 in the New York 
Lottery, and immediately distributed it among the 
prisoners in that city. A New London, Connecti- 
cut, paper, dated Feb. 20, 1778, states that *'it is said 
that the American prisoners, since we have had a 
Commissary in New York, are well served with good 
provisions, which are furnished at the expense of 
the States, and they are in general very healthy." 

We fear this was a rose-colored view of the mat- 
ter, though there is no doubt that our commissaries 
did what they could to alleviate the miseries of cap- 
tivity. 

Onderdonk quotes from Gaine's Mercury an ad- 
vertisement for nurses in the hospital, but it is un- 
dated. "Nurses wanted immediately to attend the 
prison hospitals in this city. Good recommendations 
required, signed by two respectable inhabitants. Lewis 
Pintard." 

From the New York Gazette, May 6, 1778, we 
take the following: ''Colonel Miles, Irvin, and fifty 
more exchanged." 

"Conn. Gazette. July 10, '78. About three weeks 
ago Robert Shefield, of Stonington, made his es- 
cape from New York after confinement in a prison 
ship. After he was taken he, with his crew of ten, 
were thrust into the fore-peak, and put in irons. On 
their arrival at New York they were carried on board 
a prison ship, and to the hatchways, on opening which, 
tell not of Pandora's box, for that must be an ala- 



126 American Prisoners of the Rev )i.ution 

baster box in comparison to the opening of these 
hatches. True there were gratings (to let in air) but 
they kept their boats upon them. The steam of the 
hold was enough to scald the skin, and take away the 
breath, the stench enough to poison the air all around. 

"On his descending these dreary mansions of woe, 
and beholding the numerous spectacles of wretched- 
ness and despair, his soul fainted within him. A little 
epitome of hell, — about 300 men confined between 
decks, half Frenchmen. He was informed there were 
three more of these vehicles of contagion, which con- 
tained a like number of miserable Frenchmen also, 
who were treated worse, if possible, than Americans. 

"The heat was so intense that (the hot sun shining 
all day on deck) they were all naked, which also 
served the well to get rid of vermin, but the sick were 
eaten up alive. Their sickly countenances, and ghastly 
looks were truly horrible; some swearing and blas- 
pheming; others crying, praying, and wringing their 
hands ; and stalking about like ghosts ; others deliri- 
ous, raving and storming, — all panting for breath; 
some dead, and corrupting. The air was so foul that 
at times a lamp could not be kept burning, by reason 
of which the bodies were not missed until they had 
been dead ten days. 

"One person alone was admitted on deck at a time, 
after sunset, which occasioned much filth to run into 
the hold, and mingle with the bilge water, which was 
not pumped out while he was aboard, notwithstanding 
the decks were leaky, and the prisoners begged per- 
mission to let in water and pump it out again. 

"While Mr. Sheffield was on board, which was six 
days, five or six died daily, and three of his people. 
He was sent for on shore as evidence in a Court of 



American Pris^j^jJers of the Revolution 127 

Admiralty for conde ^riing his own vessel, and hap- 
pily escaped. 

"He was L-xk "zned in New York that the fresh meat 
sent in to our prisoners by our Commissary was taken 
by the men-of-war for their own use. This he can 
say : he did not see any aboard the ship he was in, 
but they were well supplied with soft bread from our 
Commissaries on shore. But the provision (be it 
what it will) is not the complaint. Fresh air and 
fresh water, God's free gift, is all their cry." 

''New London, Conn. July 31. 78, Last week 500 
or 600 prisoners were released from confinement at 
New York and sent out chiefly by way of New Jersey, 
being exchanged." 

"New London Conn. Sep. 26, 78. All American 
prisoners are nearly sent out of New York, but there 
are 615 French prisoners still there." 

"Oct 18, 78. The Ship, Good Hope, lies in the 
North River." 

"New London Dec. 18, 78. A Flag with 70 men 
from the horrible prison ships of New York arrived: 
30 very sickly, 2 died since they arrived." 

"N. London. Dec. 25, 78. A cartel arived here 
from New York with 172 American prisoners. They 
were landed here and in Groton, the greater part are 
sickly and in most deplorable condition, owing chiefly 
to the ill usage in the prison ships, where numbers 
had their feet and legs frozen." 



w 



CHAPTER X\\ 
The Old Sugar House — Trinty Churchyard 

WE WILL now take our readers with us to the 
Sugar House on Liberty Street, long called 
the Old Sugar House, and the only one of the 
three Sugar Houses which appear to have been used 
as a place of confinement for American prisoners of 
war after the year 1777. 

We have already mentioned this dreary abode of 
wretchedness, but it deserves a more elaborate de- 
scription. 

From Valentine's Manual of the Common Council 
of New York for 1844 we will copy the following 
brief sketch of the British Prisons in New York 
during the Revolution. 

"The British took possession of New York Sep. 
15, '76, and the capture of Ft. Washington, Nov. 16, 
threw 2700 prisoners into their power. To these 
must be added 1000 taken at the battle of Brooklyn, 
and such private citizens as were arrested for their 
political principles, in New York City and on Long 
Island, and we may safely conclude that Sir William 
Howe had at least 5000 prisoners to provide for. 

"The sudden influx of so many prisoners ; the 
recent capture of the city, and the unlooked-for con- 
flagration of a fourth part of it, threw his affairs into 
such confusion that, from these circumstances alone, 
the prisoners must have suffered much, from want of 
food and other bodily comforts, but there was super- 
added the studied cruelty of Captain Cunningham, 



Americain Prisoners of the Revoi^ution 129 

the Provost Marshal, and his deputies, and the crim- 
inal negligence of Sir Wm. Howe. 

**To contain such a vast number of prisoners the 
ordinary places of confinement were insufficient. Ac- 
cordingly the Brick Church, the Middle Church, the 
North Church, and the French Church were appro- 
priated to their use. Beside these, Columbia College, 
the Sugar House, the New Gaol, the new Bridewell, 
and the old City Hall were filled to their utmost ca- 
pacity. 

"Till within a few years there stood on Liberty 
Street, south of the Middle Dutch Church, a dark, 
stone building, with small, deep porthole looking 
windows, rising tier above tier; exhibiting a dungeon- 
like aspect. It was five stories high, and each story 
was divided into two dreary apartments. 

"On the stones and bricks in the wall were to be 
seen names and dates, as if done with a prisoner's 
penknife, or nail. There was a strong, gaol-like 
door opening on Liberty St., and another on the 
southeast, descending into a dismal cellar, also used 
as a prison. There was a w^alk nearly broad enough 
for a cart to travel around it, where night and day, 
two British or Hessian guards walked their weary 
rounds. The yard was surrounded by a close 
board fence, nine feet high. 'In the suffocating 
heat of summer,' says Wm. Dunlap, 'I saw every 
narrow aperture of these stone walls filled with hu- 
man heads, face above face, seeking a portion of the 
external air.' 

"While the gaol fever was raging in the summer 

of 1777, the prisoners were let out in companies of 

twenty, for half an hour at a time, to breathe fresh 

air, and inside they were so crowded, that they divided 

—9 



130 American Prisoners of th':: Revolution 

their numbers into squads of six each. No. 1 
stood for ten minutes as close to the windows as they 
could, and then No. 2 took their places, and so on. 

''Seats there were none, and their beds were but 
straw, intermixed with vermin. 

"For many days the dead-cart visited the prison 
every morning, into which eight or ten corpses were 
flung or piled up, like sticks of wood, and dumped 
into ditches in the outskirts of the city." 

Silas Talbot says : "A New York gentleman 
keeps a window shutter that was used as a checker- 
board in the Sugar House. The prisoners daily un- 
hinged it, and played on it.'*' 

Many years ago a small pamphlet was printed in 
New York to prove that some of the American pris- 
oners who died in the Old Sugar House were buried 
in Trinity church-yard. Andrew S. Norwood, who 
was a boy during the Revolution, deposed that he used 
to carry food to John Van Dyke, in this prison. The 
other prisoners would try to wrest away the food, as 
they were driven mad by hunger. They were fre- 
quently fed with bread made from old, worm-eaten 
ship biscuits, reground into meal and offensive to 
the smell. Many of the prisoners died, and some 
were put into oblong boxes, sometimes two in a box, 
and buried in Trinity church-yard, and the boy, 
himself, witnessed some of the interments. A part 
of Trinity church-yard was used as a common bury- 
ing-ground, — as was also the yard of St. George's 
Church, and what was called the Swamp Burying- 
Ground. 

This boy also deposed that his uncle CHfford was 
murdered during the Revolution, it was supposed by 
foreign soldiers, and he was buried in Trinity 
church-yard. 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 131 

Jacob Freeman, also a boy during the Revolution, 
deposed that his father and several other inhabitants 
of Woodbridge were arrested and sent to New York. 
His grandfather was sixty years old, and when he 
was arrested, his son, who was concealed and could 
have escaped, came out of his hiding-place and sur- 
rendered himself for the purpose of accompanying 
his father to prison. The son was a Lieutenant. They 
were confined in the Sugar House several months. 
Every day some of the prisoners died and were bur- 
ied in Old Trinity church-yard. Ensign Jacob 
Barnitz was wounded in both legs at the battle of 
Fort Washington. He was conveyed to New York 
and there thrown into the Sugar House, and suffered 
to lie on the damp ground. A kind friend had him 
conveyed to more comfortable quarters. Barnitz 
came from York, or Lancaster, Pa. 

Little John Pennell was a cabin boy, bound to Cap- 
tain White of the sloop of war, Nancy, in 1776. He 
testified that the prisoners of the Sugar House, which 
was very damp, were buried on the hill called "The 
Holy Ground." '*! saw where they were buried. 
The graves were long and six feet wide. Five or 
six were buried in one grave." It was Trinity 
Church ground. 

We will now give an account of Levi Hanford, 
who was imprisoned in the Sugar House in 1777. 
Levi Hanford was a son of Levi Hanford, and 
was born in Connecticut, in the town of Norwalk, on 
the 19th of Feb., 1759. In 1775 he enlisted in a 
militia company. In 1776 he was in service in New 
York. In March 1777, being then a member of a com- 
pany commanded by Captain Seth Seymour, he was 
captured with twelve others under Lieut. J. B. Eels, 



132 American Prisoners o^ the Revolution 

at the ''Old Well" in South Norwalk, Conn. While 
a prisoner in the Old Sugar House he sent the fol- 
lowing letter to his father. A friend wrote the first 
part for him, and he appears to have finished it in 
his own handwriting. 

New York June 7. 1777 
Loving Father: — 

I take the opportunity to let you 
know I am alive, and in reasonable health, since I had 
the small-pox.-thanks be to the Lord for it. * * ♦ 
I received the things you sent me. * * * j v^rish 
you would go and see if you can't get us exchanged 
— if you please. Matthias Comstock is dead. Sam. 
Hasted, Ebenezer Hoyt, Jonathan Kellog has gone to 
the hospital to be inoculated today. We want money 
very much. I > have been sick but hope I am better. 
There is a doctor here that has helpt me. * * ♦ 
I would not go to the Hospital, for all manner of 
disease prevail there. * * >i= jf jq^ ^an possibly 
help us send to the Governor and try to help us. 
* * * Remember my kind love to all my friends. 
I am 

Your Obedient son, 

Levi Hanford. 

Poor Levi Hanford was sent to the prison ship. 
Good Intent, and was not exchanged until the 8th 
of May, 1778. 

In the "Journal of American History," the third 
number of the second volume, on page 527, are the 
recollections of Thomas Stone, a soldier of the Rev- 
olution, who was born in Guilford, Conn., in 1755. 
In April, 1777, he enlisted under Capt. James Wat- 
son in Colonel Samuel Webb's Regiment, Connecti- 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 133 

cut line. He spent the following campaign near the 
Hudson. The 9th of December following Stone and 
his comrades under Gen. Parsons, embarked on 
board some small vessel at Norwalk, Conn, with a 
view to take a small fort on Long Island. "We left 
the shore," he says, "about six o'clock, P. M. The 
night was very dark, the sloop which I was aboard 
of parted from the other vessels, and at daybreak 
found ourselves alongside a British frigate. Our 
sloop grounded, we struck our colors-fatal hour! We 
were conducted to New York, introduced to the Jer- 
sey Prison Ship. We were all destitute of any cloth- 
ing except what we had on; we now began to taste 
the vials of Monarchial tender mercy. 

"About the 25th of Jan. 1778, we were taken from 
the ships to the Sugar House, which during the in- 
clement season was more intolerable than the Ships. 

"We left the floating Hell with joy, but alas, our 
joy was of short duration. Cold and famine were 
now our destiny. Not a pane of glass, nor even a 
board to a single window in the house, and no fire 
but once in three days to cook our small allowance 
of provision. There was a scene that truly tried 
body and soul. Old shoes were bought and eaten 
with as much relish as a pig or a turkey; a beef 
bone of four or five ounces, after it was picked clean, 
was sold by the British guard for as many coppers. 

"In the spring our misery increased; frozen feet 
began to mortify; by the first of April, death took 
from our numbers, and, I hope, from their misery, 
from seven to ten a day; and by the first of May out 
of sixty-nine taken with me only fifteen were alive, 
and eight out of that number unable to work. 

"Death stared the living in the face: we were now 



134 American Prisoners o:^ the Revolution 

attacked by a fever which threatened to clear our 
walls of its miserable inhabitants. 

"About the 20th of July I made my escape from 
the prison-yard. Just before the lamps were lighted 
I got safely out of the city, passed all the guards, was 
often fired at, but still safe as to any injury done me; 
arrived at Harlem River eastward of King's Bridge. 

"Hope and fear were now in full exercise. The 
alarm was struck by the sentinels keeping firing at 
me. I arrived at the banks of Harlem, — five men 
met me with their bayonets at my heart ; to resist was 
instant death, and to give up, little better. 

"I was conducted to the main guard, kept there 
until morning then started for New York with wait- 
ers with bayonets at my back, arrived at my old hab- 
itation about 1 o'clock, P. M. ; was introduced to the 
Prison keeper who threatened me with instant death, 
gave me two heavy blows with his cane; I caught 
his arm and the guard interfered. Was driven to the 
provost, thrust into a dungeon, a stone floor, not a 
blanket, not a board, not a straw to rest on. Next 
day was visited by a Refugee Lieutenant, offered to 
enlist me, offered a bounty, I declined. Next day re- 
newed the visit, made further offers, told me the 
General was determined I should starve to death 
where I was unless I would enter their service. I 
told him his General dare not do it. (I shall here 
omit the imprecations I gave him in charge.) 

"The third day I was visited by two British officers, 
offered me a sergeant's post, threatened me with 
death as before, in case I refused. I repHed, 'Death 
if they dare !' 

"In about ten minutes the door was opened, a 
guard took me to my old habitation the Sugar House, 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 135 

it being about the same time of day I left my cell 
that I entered it, being three days and nights without 
a morsel of food or a drop of water, — all this for the 
crime of getting out of prison. When in the dun- 
geon reflecting upon my situation I thought if ever 
mortal could be justified in praying for the destruc- 
tion of his enemies, I am the man. 

"After my escape the guard was augmented, and 
about this time a new prison keeper was appointed,, 
our situation became more tolerable. 

"The 16th of July was exchanged. Language 
would fail me to describe the joy of that hour; but 
it was transitory. On the morning of the 16th, some 
friends, or what is still more odious, some Refugees, 
cast into the Prison yard a quantity of warm bread, 
and it was devoured with greediness. The prison 
gate was opened, we marched out about the number 
of 250. Those belonging to the North and Eastern 
States were conducted to the North River and driven 
on board the flag ship, and landed at Elizabethtown, 
New Jersey. Those who ate of the bread soon sick- 
ened; there was death in the bread they had eaten. 
Some began to complain in about half an hour after 
eating the bread, one was taken sick after another 
in quick succession and the cry was, 'Poison, poison!" 
I was taken sick about an hour after eating. When 
we landed, some could walk, and some could not. 
I walked to town about two miles, being led most of 
the way by two men. About one half of our number 
did not eat of the bread, as a report had been brought 
into the prison that the prisoners taken at Fort Wash- 
ington had been poisoned in the same zvay, 

"The sick were conveyed in wagons to White 
Plains, where I expected to meet my regiment, but 



136 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

they had been on the march to Rhode Island I be- 
lieve, about a week. I was now in a real dilemma; 
I had not the vestige of a shirt to my body, was 
moneyless and friendless. What to do I knew not. 
Unable to walk, a gentleman, I think his name was 
Allen, offered to carry me to New Haven, which he 
did. The next day I was conveyed to Guilford, the 
place of my birth, but no near relative to help m.e. 
Here I learned that my father had died in the service 
the Spring before. I was taken in by a hospitable 
uncle, but in moderate circumstances. Dr. Readfield 
attended me for about four months. I was salivated 
twice, but it had no good effect. They sent me 30 
miles to Dr Little of East Haddam, who under kind 
Providence restored me to such state of health that 
I joined my Regiment in the Spring following. 

"In the year 1780, I think in the month of June, 
General Green met the enemy at Springfield, New 
Jersey, and in the engagement I had my left elbow 
dislocated in the afternoon. The British fired the 
village and retreated. We pursued until dark. The 
next morning my arm was so swollen that it could 
not, or at least was not put right, and it has been ever 
since a weak, feeble joint, which has disabled me 
from most kinds of manual labor." 

To this account the grandson of Thomas Stone, 
the Rev. Hiram Stone, adds some notes, in one of 
which he says, speaking of the Sugar House : '*I 
have repeatedly heard my grandfather relate that 
there were no windows left in the building, and that 
during the winter season the snov/ would be driven 
entirely across the great rooms in the different 
stories, and in the morning lie in drifts upon our 
poor, hungry, unprotected prisoners. Of a morning 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 137 

several frozen corpses would be dragged out, thrown 
into wagons like logs, then driven away and pitched 
into a large hole or trench, and covered up like dead 
brutes." 

Speaking of the custom of sending the exchanged 
prisoners as far as possible from their own homes, he 
says: "1 well remember hearing my grandfather ex- 
plain this strange conduct of the enemy in the fol- 
lowing way. After the poison was thus perfidiously 
administered, the prisoners belonging at the North 
were sent across to the Jersey side, while those of 
the South were sent in an opposite direction, the in- 
tention of the enemy evidently being to send the ex- 
changed prisoners as far from home as possible, that 
most of them might die of the effect of the poison 
before reaching their friends. Grandfather used to 
speak of the treatment of our prisoners as most cruel 
and murderous, though charging it more to the Tories 
or Refugees than to the British. 

"The effects of the poison taken into his system 
were never eradicated in the life-time of my grand- 
father, a 'breaking out,' or rash, appearing every 
spring, greatly to his annoyance and discomfort." 



CHAPTER XVI 
The Case of John Blatchford 

IN OUR attempt to describe the sufferings of 
American prisoners taken during the Revolu- 
tion, we have, for the most part, confined ourselves 
to New York, only because we have been unable to 
make extensive research into the records of the 
British prisons in other places. But what little we 
have been able to gather on the subject of the prison- 
ers sent out of America we will also lay before our 
readers. 

We have already stated the fact that some of our 
prisoners were sent to India and some to Africa. They 
seem to have been sold into slavery, and purchased 
by the East India Company, and the African Com- 
pany as well. 

It is doubtful if any of the poor prisoners sent to 
the unwholesome climate of Africa ever returned to 
tell the story of British cruelties inflicted upon them 
there, — where hard work in the burning sun, — scanty 
fare, — and jungle fever soon ended their miseries. 
But one American prisoner escaped from the Island 
of Sumatra, where he had been employed in the pep- 
perfields belonging to the East India Company. His 
story is eventful, and we will give the reader an 
abridgement of it, as it was told by himself, in his 
narrative, first published in a New England news- 
paper. 

John Blatchford was born at Cape Ann, Mass., in 
the year 1762. In June, 1777, he went as a cabin 
boy on board the Hancock, a continental ship com- 
manded by Capt. John Manly. On the 8th of July 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 139 

the Hancock was captured by the Rainbow, under Sir 
George Collier, and her crew was taken to Halifax. 

John Blatchford was, at this time, in his sixteenth 
year. He was of medium height, with broad shoul- 
ders, full chest, and well proportioned figure. His 
complexion was sallow, his eyes dark, and his hair 
black and curly. He united great strength with re- 
markable endurance, else he could not have survived 
the rough treatment he experienced at the hands of 
fate. It is said that as a man he was temperate, 
grave, and dignified, and although his strength was 
so great, and his courage most undaunted, yet he was 
peaceable and slow to anger. His narrative appears 
to have been dictated by himself to some better edu- 
cated person. It was first published in New London, 
Conn., in the year 1788. In the year 1797 an abstract 
of it appeared in Philip Freneau's Time Piece, a 
paper published in New York. In July, 1860, the en- 
tire production was published in the Cape Ann Ga- 
zette. We will now continue the narrative in Blatch- 
f ord's own words : 

"On our arrival at Halifax we were taken on shore 
and confined in a prison which had formerly been 
a sugar-house. 

''The large number of prisoners confined in this 
house, near 300, together with a scanty allowance of 
provisions, occasioned it to be very sickly. * * * 
George Barnard, who had been a midshipman on the 
Hancock, and who was confined in the same room 
as myself, concerted a plan to release us, which was 
to be effected by digging a small passage under 
ground, to extend to a garden that was behind the 
prison, and without the prison wall, where we might 
make a breach in the night with safety, and probably 



140 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

all obtain our liberty. This plan greatly elated our 
spirits, and we were anxious to proceed immediately 
in executing it. 

"Our cabins were built one above another, from 
the floor to the height of a man's head; and mine 
was pitched upon to be taken up ; and six of us agreed 
to do the work, whose names were George Barnard, 
William Atkins, late midshipmen in the Hancock; 
Lemuel Towle of Cape Ann^ Isaiah Churchill of Ply- 
mouth; Asa Cole of Weathersfield, and myself. 

''We took up the cabin and cut a hole in the plank 
underneath. The sugar house stood on a foundation 
of stone which raised the floor four feet above the 
ground, and gave us suflicient room to work, and to 
convey away the dirt that we dug up. 

"The instruments that we had to work with were 
one scraper, one long spike, and some sharp sticks; 
with these we proceeded in our difficult undertaking. 
As the hole was too small to admit of more than one 
person to work at a time we dug by turns during ten 
or twelve days, and carried the dirt in our bosoms 
to another part of the cellar. By this time we sup- 
posed we had dug far enough, and word was given 
out among the prisoners to prepare themselves for 
flight. 

"But while we were in the midst of our gayety, 
congratulating ourselves upon our prospects, we were 
basely betrayed by one of our own countrymen, whose 
name was Knowles. He had been a midshipman on 
board the Boston frigate, and was put on board the 
Fox when she was taken by the Hancock and Boston. 
What could have induced him to commit so vile an 
action cannot be conceived, as no advantage could 
accrue to him from our detection, and death was the 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 141 

certain consequence to many of his miserable country- 
men. That it was so is all that I can say. A few 
hours before we were to have attempted our escape 
Knowles informed the Sergeant of the guard of our 
design, and by his treachery cost his country the lives 
of more than one hundred valuable citizens, — fathers, 
and husbands, whose return would have rejoiced the 
hearts of now weeping, fatherless children, and called 
forth tears of joy from wives, now helpless and dis- 
consolate widows. 

''When we were discovered the whole guard were 
ordered into the room and being informed by 
Knowles who it was that performed the work we 
were all six confined in irons ; the hole was filled up 
and a sentinel constantly placed in the room, to pre- 
vent any further attempt. 

"We were all placed in close confinement, until two 
of my fellow-suf¥erers, Barnard and Cole, died; one 
of which was put into the ground with his irons on 
his hands. 

"I was afterwards permitted to walk the yard. But 
as my irons were too small, and caused my hands to 
swell, and made them very sore, I asked the Sergeant 
to take them off and give me larger ones. He being 
a person of humanity, and compassionating my suf- 
ferings, changed my irons for others that were larger, 
and more easy to my hands. 

''Knowles, who was also permitted to walk the 
yard, for his perfidy, would take every opportunity 
to insult and mortify me, by asking me whether I 
wanted to run away again, and when I was going 
home, etc? 

"His daily affronts, together with his conduct in 
betraying his countrymen, so exasperated me that 



142 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

I wished for nothing more than an opportunity to 
convince him that I did not love him. 

"One day as he was tantalizing over me as usual, 
I suddenly drew my one hand out of my irons, flew 
at him and struck him in the face, knocked out two or 
three of his teeth, and bruised his mouth very much. 
He cried out that the prisoner had got loose, but 
before any assistance came, I had put my hand again 
into the hand-cuff, and was walking about the yard 
as usual. When the guard came they demanded of 
me in what manner I struck him. I replied with both 
my hands. 

"They then tried to pull my hands out, but could 
not, and concluded it must be as I said. Some 
laughed and some were angry, but in the end I was 
ordered again into prison. 

"The next day I was sent on board the Greyhound, 
frigate, Capt. Dickson, bound on a cruise in Boston 
Bay. 

"After being out a few days we met with a severe 
gale of wind, in which we sprung our main-mast, 
and received considerable other damage. We were 
then obliged to bear away for the West Indies, and 
on our passage fell in with and took a brig from 
Norwich, laden with stock. 

"The Captain and hands were put on board a 
Danish vessel the same day. We carried the brig 
into Antigua, where we immediately repaired, and 
were ordered in company of the Vulture, sloop of 
war, to convoy a sloop of merchantmen into New 
York. 

"We left the fleet off Sandy Hook, and sailed for 
Philadelphia, where we lay until we were made a 
packet, and ordered for Halifax with dispatches. We 
had a quick passage, and arrived safe. 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 143 

"While we lay in the road Admiral Byron arrived, 
in the Princess Royal from England, who, being 
short of men, and we having a surplusage for a 
packet, many of our men were ordered on board the 
Princess Royal, and among them most of our boat's 
crew. 

''Soon after, some of the officers going on shore, I 
was ordered into the boat. We landed at the Gov- 
ernor's slip — it being then near night. This was the 
first time since I had been on board the Greyhound 
that I had had an opportunity to escape from her, as 
they were before this particularly careful of me; 
therefore I was determined to get away if possible, 
and to effect it I waded round a wharf and went up 
a byway, fearing I should meet the officers. I soon 
got into the street, and made the best of my way 
towards Irishtown (the southern suburbs of Halifax) 
where I expected to be safe, but unfortunately while 
running I was met and stopped by an emissary, who 
demanded of me my business, and where I was go- 
ing? I tried to deceive him, that he might let me pass, 
but it was in vain, he ordered me to follow him. 

*'I offered him what money I had, about seven 
shillings, sixpence, to let me go, this too was in vain. 
I then told him I was an American, making my es- 
cape, from a long confinement, and was determined 
to pass, and took up a stone. He immediately drew 
his bayonet, and ordered me to go back with him. I 
refused and told him to keep his distance. He then 
run upon me and pushed his bayonet into my side. 
It come out near my navel; but the wound was not 
very deep; he then made a second pass at me, and 
stabbed me through my arm; he was about to stab 
me a third time, when I struck him with the stone 



144 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

and knocked him down. I then run, but the guard 
who had been alarmed, immediately took me and 
carried me before the Governor, where I understood 
the man was dead. 

"I was threatened with every kind of death, and 
ordered out of the Governor's presence. * * * 
Next day I was sent on board the Greyhound, the 
ship I had run from, and we sailed for England. Our 
captain being a humane man ordered my irons off, a 
few days after we sailed, and permitted me to do duty 
as formerly. Being out thirteen days we spoke the 
Hazard sloop of war, who informed that the French 
fleet was then cruising in the English Channel. For 
this reason we put into Cork, and the dispatches weie 
forwarded to England. 

"While we lay in the Cove of Cork I jumped over- 
board with the intention of getting away; un- 
fortunately I was discovered and fired at by the 
mxarines ; the boat was immediately sent after me, took 
me up, and carried me on board again. At this time 
almost all the officers were on shore, and the ship 
was left in charge of the sailing-master, one Drum- 
mond, who beat me most cruelly. To get out of his 
way I run forward, he followed me, and as I was 
running back he came up with me and threw me 
down the main-hold. The fall, together with the 
beating was so severe that I was deprived of my 
senses for a considerable time. When I recovered 
them I found myself in the carpenter's berth, placed 
upon some old canvas between two chests, having my 
right thigh, leg and arm broken, and several parts of 
my body severely bruised. In this situation I lay 
eighteen days till our officers, who had been on busi- 
ness to Dublin, came on board. The captain inquired 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 145 

for the prisoners, and on being informed of my situa- 
tion came down with the doctor to set my bones, but 
finding them callussed they concluded not to meddle 
with me. 

"The ship lay at Cork until the French fleet left the 
Channel, and then sailed for Spithead. On our ar- 
rival there I was sent in irons on board the Princess 
Amelia, and the next day was carried on board the 
Brittania, in Portsmouth Harbor, to be tried before 
Sir Thomas Pye, lord high admiral of England, and 
President of the court martial. 

''Before the officers had collected I was put under the 
care of a sentinel, and the seamen and women who 
came on board compassionated my sufferings, which 
rather heightened than diminished my distress. 

"1 was sitting under the awning, almost overpow- 
ered by the reflection of my unhappy situation, every 
morning expecting to be summoned for my trial, 
when I heard somebody enquire for the prisoner, 
and supposing it to be an officer I rose up and an- 
swered that I was there. 

"The gentleman came to me, told me to be of good 
chear, and taking out a bottle of cordial, bade me 
drink, which I did. He then enquired where I be- 
longed. I informed him. He asked me if I had par- 
ents living, and if I had any friends in England? I 
answered I had neither. He then assured me he 
was my friend, and would render me all the assistance 
in his power. He then enquired of me every circum- 
stance relative to my fray with the man at Hah fax, 
for whose death I was now to be tried and instructed 
me what to say on my trial, etc." 

Whether this man was a philanthropist, or an 
agent for the East India Company, we do not know. 
—10 



146 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

He instructed Blatchford to plead guilty, and then 
defended him from the charge of murder, no doubt 
on the plea of self-defence. Blatchford was therefore 
acquitted of murder, but apparently sold to the East 
India Company as a slave. How this was condoned 
we do not know, but will let the poor sailor continue 
his narrative in his own words. 

"I was carried on board an Indiaman, and im- 
mediately put down into the run, where I was con- 
fined ten days. h< * * q^ ^j^^ seventh day I 
heard the boatswain pipe all hands, and about noon 
I was called up on board, where I found myself on 
board the Princess Royal, Captain Robert Kerr, 
bound to the East Indies, with six others, all large 
ships belonging to the East India Company." He had 
been told that he was to be sent back to America to 
be exchanged, and his disappointment amounted al- 
most to despair. 

"Our captain told me if I behaved well and did 
my duty I should receive as good usage as any man 
on board; this gave me great encouragement. I now 
found my destiny fixed, that whatever I could do 
would not in the least alter my situation, and there- 
for was determined to do the best I could, and make 
myself as contented as my unfortunate situation 
would admit. 

"After being on board seven days I found there 
were in the Princess Royal 82 Americans, all 
destined to the East Indies, for being what they called 
'Rebels.' 

"We had a passage of seventeen weeks to St 
Helena, where we put in and landed part of our 
cargo, which consisted wholly of provisions. * * * 
The ship lay here about three weeks. We then sailed 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 147 

for Batavia, and on the passage touched at the Cape 
of Good Hope, where we found the whole of the 
fleet that sailed with us from England. We took in 
some provisions and necessaries, and set sail for 
Batavia, where we arrived in ten weeks. Here we 
purchased a large quantity of arrack, and remained 
a considerable time. 

"We then sailed for Bencoulen in the Island of 
Sumatria, and after a passage of about six weeks ar- 
rived there. This was in June, 1780. 

"At this place the Americans were all carried on 
shore, and I found that I was no longer to remain 
on board the ship, but condemned to serve as a 
soldier for five years. I offered to bind myself to 
the captain for five years, or any longer term if I 
might serve on board the ship. He told me it was im- 
possible for me to be released from acting as a 
soldier, unless I could pay i50, sterling. As I was 
unable to do this I was obliged to go through the 
manual exercise with the other prisoners; among 
whom was Wm. Randall of Boston, and Josiah 
Folgier of Nantucket, both young men, and one of 
them an old ship-mate of mine. 

"These two and myself agreed to behave as igno- 
rant and awkward as possible, and what motions we 
learned one day we were to forget the next. We pur- 
sued this conduct nearly a fortnight, and were beaten 
every day by the drill-sergeant who exercised us, and 
when he found we were determined, in our obstinacy, 
and that it was not possible for him to learn us any- 
thing, we were all three sent into the pepper gardens 
belonging to the East India Company; and continued 
picking peppers from morning till night, and allowed 
but two scanty meals a day. This, together with the 



148 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

amazing heat of the sun^ the island lying under the 
equator, was too much for an American constitution, 
unused to a hot climate, and we expected that we 
should soon end our misery and our lives ; but Provi- 
dence still preserved us for greater hardships. 

"The Americans died daily with heat and hard 
fare, which determined my two comrades and myself 
in an endeavor to make our escape. We had been in 
the pepper-gardens four months when an opportunity 
offered, and we resolved upon trying our fortune. 
Folgier, Randall and myself sat out with an intention 
of reaching Croy (a small harbor where the Dutch 
often touched at to water, on the opposite side of the 
island). Folgier had by some means got a bayonet, 
which he fixed in the end of a stick. Randall and 
myself had nothing but staves, which were all the 
weapons we carried with us. We provided ourselves 
with fireworks [he means flints to strike fire] for 
our journey, which we pursued unmolested till the 
fourth day just at night, when we heard a rustle in 
the bushes and discovered nine sepoys, who rushed 
out upon us. 

"Folgier being the most resolute of us run at one 
of them, and pushed his bayonet through his body 
into a tree. Randall knocked down another; but they 
overpowered us, bound us, and carried us back to 
the fort, which we reached in a day and a half, 
though we had been four days travelling from it, 
owing to the circle we made by going round the 
shore, and they came across the woods being ac- 
quainted with the way. 

"Immediately on our arrival at the fort the Gov- 
ernor called a court martial, to have us tried. We were 
soon all condemned to be shot next morning at seven 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 149 

o'clock, and ordered to be sent into the dungeon and 
confined in irons, where we were attended by an ad- 
jutant who brought a priest with him to pray and 
converse with us, but Folgier, who hated the sight 
of an EngHshman, desired that we might be left 
alone. ^ ^^ ^ the clerg}^man reprimanded him, 
and told him he m.ade very light of his situation on 
the supposition that he would be reprieved; but if he 
expected it he deceived himself. Folgier still per- 
sisted in the clerg^-m.an's leaving us, if he would have 
us make our peace with God, 'for,' said he, 'the sight 
of Englishmen, from whom we have received such 
treatment, is more disagreeable than the evil spirits 
of which you have spoken;' that, if he could have his 
choice, he would choose death in preference to life, 
if he must have it on the condition of such barbarous 
usage as he had received from their hands ; and the 
thoughts of death did not seem so hideous to him as 
his past sufferings. 

"He visited us again about midnight, but finding 
his company was not acceptable, he soon left us to 
our melancholy reflections. 

"Before sunrise we heard the drums beat, and soon 
after heard the direful noise of the door grating on 
its iron hinges. We were all taken out, our irons 
taken off, and we conducted by a strong guard of 
soldiers to the parade, surrounded by a circle of 
armed men, and led into the midst of them, where 
three white officers were placed by our side ; — silence 
was then commanded, and the adjutant taking a paper 
out of his pocket read our sentence ; — and now I can- 
not describe my feelings upon this occasion, nor can 
it be felt by any one but those who have experienced 
some remarkable deliverance from the grim hand of 



150 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

death, when surrounded on all sides, and nothing but 
death expected from every quarter, and by Divine 
Providence there is some way found out for escape — 
so it seemed to me when the adjutant pulled out an- 
other paper from his pocket and read : 'That the 
Governor and Council, in consideration of the youth 
of Randall and myself, supposing us to be led on 
by Folgier, who was the oldest, thought proper to 
pardon us from death, and that instead we were to 
receive 800 lashes each.' 

"Although this last sentence seemed terrible to me, 
yet in comparison with death, it seemed to be light. 
Poor Folgier was shot in our presence, — previous to 
which we were told we might go and converse with 
him. Randall went and talked with him first, and 
after him I went up to take my leave, but my feel- 
ings were such at the time I had not power to utter a 
single word to my departing friend, who seemed as 
undaunted and seemingly as willing to die as I was 
to be released, and told me not to forget the promises 
we had formerly made to each other, which was to 
embrace the first opportunity to escape. 

"We parted, and he was immediately after shot 
dead. We were next taken and tied, and the adjutant 
brought a small whip made of cotton, which consisted 
of a number of strands and knotted at the ends; but 
these knots were all cut off by the adjutant before 
the drummer took it, which made it not worse than 
to have been whipped with cotton yarn. 

"After being whipped 800 lashes we were sent to 
the Company's hospital, w^here we had been about 
three weeks when Randall told me he intended very 
soon to make his escape : — This somewhat surprised 
me, as I had lost all hopes of regaining my liberty, 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 151 

and supposed he had. I told him I had hoped he 
would never mention it again; but however, if that 
was his design, I would accompany him. He advised 
me, if I was fearful, to tarry behind; but finding he 
was determined on going, I resolved to run the risque 
once more ; and as we were then in a hospital we were 
not suspected of such a design. 

"Having provided ourselves with fire-works, and 
knives, about the first of December, 1780, we sat out, 
with the intent to reach the Dutch settlement of Croy, 
which is about two or three hundred miles distance 
upon a direct line, but as we were obliged to travel 
along the coast (fearing to risque the nearest way), it 
was a journey of 800 miles. 

"We took each a stick and hung it around our neck, 
and every day cut a notch, which was the method we 
took to keep time. 

"In this manner we travelled, living upon fruity 
turtle eggs, and sometimes turtle, which we cooked 
every night with the fire we built to secure us from 
wild beasts, they being in great plenty, — such as buf- 
faloes, tigers, jackanapes, leopards, lions, and 
baboons and monkies. 

"On the 30th day of our traveling we met with 
nothing we could eat and found no water. At night 
we found some fruit which appeared to the eyes to 
be very delicious, different from any we had seen 
in our travels. It resembled a fruit which grows in 
the West Indies, called a Jack, about the size of an 
orange. We being very dry and hungry immediately 
gathered some of this fruit, but finding it of a sweet, 
sickish taste, I eat but two. Randall eat freely. In 
the evening we found we were poisoned : I was sick 
and puked considerably, Randall was sick and began 



152 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

to swell all round his body. He grew worse all 
night, but continued to have his senses till the next 
day, when he died, and left me to mourn my greater 
wretchedness, — more than 400 miles from any settle- 
ment, no companion, the wide ocean on one side, and 
a prowling wilderness on the other, liable to many 
kinds of death, more terrible than being shot. 

"I laid down by Randall's body, wishing, if possible, 
that he might return and tell me what course to take. 
My thoughts almost distracted me, so that I was un- 
able to do anything untill the next day, during all 
which time I continued by the side of Randall. I 
then got up and made a hole in the sand and buried 
him. 

"I now continued my journey as well as the weak 
state of my body would permit, — the weather being 
at the time extremely hot and rainy. I frequently 
lay down and would wish that I might never rise 
again; — despair had almost wholly possessed me; and 
sometimes in a kind of delirium I would fancy I 
heard my mother's voice, and my father calling me, 
and I would answer them. At other times my wild 
imagination would paint to my view scenes which I 
was acquainted with. Then supposing myself near 
home I w^ould run as fast as my legs could carry me. 
Frequently I fancied that I heard dogs bark, men 
cutting wood, and every noise which I have heard 
in my native country. 

"One day as I was travelHng a small dog, as I 
thought it to be, came fawning round me and fol- 
lowed me, but I soon discovered it to be a young lion. 
I supposed that its dam must be nigh, and therefore 
run. It followed me some time and then left me. I 
proceeded on, but had not got far from it before it 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 153 

began to cry. I looked round and saw a lioness mak- 
ing towards it. She yelled most frightfully, which 
greatly terrified me ; but she laid down something 
from her mouth for her young one, and then with 
another yell turned and went off from me. 

**Some days after I was travelling by the edge of 
a woods, which from its appearance had felt severely 
the effects of a tornado or hurricane, the trees being 
all torn up by the roots, and I heard a crackling noise 
in the bushes. Looking about I saw a monstrous 
large tiger making slowly towards me, which fright- 
ened me exceedingly. When he had approached 
within a few rods of me, in my surprise I Hfted up 
my hands and hollowed very loud. The sudden noise 
frightened him, seemingly as much as I had been, 
and he immediately turned and run into the woods, 
and I saw him no more. 

"After this I continued to travel on without moles- 
tation, only from the monkies who were here so 
plentiful that oftentimics I saw them in large droves; 
sometimes I run from them, as if afraid of them, 
they would then follow, grin, and chatter at me, and 
when they got near I would turn, and they would 
run from me back into the woods, and climb the trees 
to get out of my way. 

''It was now 15 weeks since I had left the hospital. 
I had travelled most all of the day without any water 
and began to be very thirsty, when I heard the sound 
of running water, as it were down a fall of rocks. I 
had heard it a considerable time and at last began to 
suspect it was nothing, but imaginary, as many other 
noises I had before thought to have heard. I how- 
ever went on as fast as I could, and at length dis- 
covered a brook. On approaching it I was not 



154 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

a little surprised and rejoiced by the sight of a 
Female Indian, who was fishing at the brook. She 
had no other dress on than that which mother nature 
affords impartially to all her children, except a small 
cloth which she wore round her waist. 

"I knew not how to address myself to her. I was 
afraid if I spoke she would run, and therefore I 
made a small noise; upon which she looked round, 
and seeing me, run across the brook, seemingly much 
frightened, leaving her fishing line. I went up to 
her basket which contained five or six fish which 
looked much like our trout. I took up the basket and 
attempted to wade across where she had passed, but 
was too weak to wade across in that place, and went 
further up the stream, where I passed over, and then 
looking for the Indian woman I saw her at some 
distance behind a large cocoa-nut tree. I walked 
towards her but dared not keep my eyes steadily 
upon her lest she would run as she did before. I 
called to her in English, and she answered in her own 
tongue, which I could not understand. I then called 
to her in the Malaysian, which I understood a little 
of; she answered me in a kind of surprise and asked 
me in the name of Okrum Footee (the name of their 
God) from whence I came, and where I was going. 
I answered her as well as I could in the Melais, that 
I was from Fort Marlborough, and going to Croy — 
that I was making my escape from the English, by 
whom I had been taken in war. She told me that she 
had been taken by the Malays some years before, 
for that the two nations were always at war, and that 
she had been kept as a slave among them three years 
and was then retaken by her countrymen. While we 
were talking together she appeared to be very shy. 



American Prisoners of the Revoi^ution 155 

and I durst not come nearer than a rod to her, lest 
she should run from me. She said that Croy, the 
place I was bound to, was about three miles distant : 
That if I would follow her she would conduct me to 
her countrymen, who were but a small distance off, 
I begged her to plead with her countrymen to spare 
my life. She said she would, and assured me that if 
I behaved well I should not be hurt. She then con- 
ducted me to a small village, consisting of huts or 
wigwams. When we arrived at the village the chil- 
dren that saw me wxre frightened and run away from 
me, and the women exhibited a great deal of fear 
and kept at a distance. But my guide called to them 
and told them not to be afraid, for that I was not 
come to hurt them, and then informed them from 
whence I came, and that I was going to Croy. 

"I told my guide I was very hungry, and she sent 
the children for something for me to eat. They came 
and brought me little round balls of rice, and they, 
not daring to come nigh, threw them at me. These 
I picked up and eat. Afterwards a woman brought 
some rice and goat's milk in a copper bason, and set- 
ting it on the ground made signs for me to take it 
up and eat it, which I did, and then put the bason 
down again. They then poked away the bason with 
a stick, battered it with stones, and making a hole in 
the ground, buried it. 

"After that they conducted me to a small hut, and 
told me to tarry there until the morning, when they 
would conduct me to the harbor. I had but little 
sleep that night, and was up several time to look out, 
and saw two or three Indians at a little distance from 
the hut, who I supposed were placed there to 
watch me. 



156 American Prisoners of the Revoi.ution 

"Early in the morning numbers came around the 
hut, and the female who was my guide asked me 
where my country was? I could not make her un- 
derstand, only that it was at a great distance. She 
then asked me if my countrymen eat men? I told 
her, no, and seeing some goats pointed at them, and 
told her we eat such as them. She then asked me 
what made me white^ and if it was not the white rain 
that come upon us when we were small * * * as 
I wished to please them I told her that I supposed it 
was, for it was only in certain seasons of the year 
that it fell, and in hot weather when it did not fall 
the people grew darker until it returned, and then 
the people all grew white again. This seemed to 
please them very much. 

"My protectress then brought a young man to me 
who she said was her brother, and who would show 
me the way to the harbour. She then cut a stick 
about eight feet long, and he took hold of one end 
and gave me the other. She told me that she had 
instructed her brother what to say at the harbour. 
He then led off, and I followed. During our walk I 
put out my hand to him several times, and made 
signs of friendship, but he seemed to be afraid of me, 
and would look upwards and then fall flat on the 
ground and kiss it : this he repeated as often as I made 
any sign or token of friendship to him. , 

"When we had got near the harbor he made a sign 
for me to sit down upon a rock, which I did. He then 
left me and went, as I supposed, to talk to the people 
at the water concerning me; but I had not sat long 
before I saw a vessel coming round the point into the 
harbor. 

"They soon came on shore in the boat. I went 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 157 

down to them and made my case known and when 
the boat returned on board they took me with them. 
It was a Dutch snow bound from China to Batavia. 
After they had wooded and watered they set sail for 
Batavia: — being out about three weeks we arrived 
there : I tarried on board her about three weeks longer, 
and then got on board a Spanish ship which was from 
Rio de la Plate bound to Spain, but by stress of weather 
was obliged to put into this port. After the vessel 
had repaired we sailed for Spain. When we made 
the Cape of Good Hope we fell in with two British 
cruisers of twenty guns each, who engaged us and did 
the vessel considerable damage, but at length we beat 
them off, and then run for the coast of Brazil, where 
we arrived safe, and began to work at repairing our 
ship, but upon examination she was found to be not 
fit to proceed on her voyage. She was therefore 
condemned. I then left her and got on board a 
Portuguese snow bound up to St. Helena, and we 
arrived safe at that place. 

"I then went on shore and quitted her and engaged 
in the garrison there to do duty as a soldier for my 
provisions till some ship should arrive there bound for 
England. After serving there a month I entered on 
board a ship called the Stormont, but orders were 
soon after received that no Indiaman should sail 
without convoy; and we lay here six months, during 
which time the Captain died. 

"While I was in St. Helena the vessel in which I 
came out from England arrived here, homeward bound ; 
she being on the return from her second voyage since 
I came from England. And now I made known my 
case to Captain Kerr, who readily took me on board 
the Princess Royal, and used me kindly and those of 



158 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

my old ship-mates on board were glad to see me 
again. Captain Kerr on first seeing me asked me if 
I was not afraid to let him know who I was, and 
endeavored to frighten me; yet his conduct towards 
me was humane and kind. 

'*It had been very sickly on board the Princess 
Royal, and the greater part of the hands who came 
out of England in her had died, and she was now 
manned chiefly with lascars. Among those who had 
died was the boatswain, and boatswain's mate, and 
Captain Kerr made me boatswain of the ship, in 
which office I continued until we arrived in London, 
and it protected me from being impressed upon our 
arrival in England. 

"We sailed from St. Helena about the first of 
November, 1781, under convoy of the Experiment of 
fifty guns, commanded by Captain Henry, and the 
Shark sloop of war of 18 guns, and we arrived in 
London about the first of March, 1782, it having been 
about two years and a half from the time I had left it. 

*'In about a fortnight after our arrival in London 
I entered on board the King George, a store-ship 
bound to Antigua, and after four weeks passage ar- 
rived there. 

''The second night after we came to anchor in 
Antigua I took the ship's boat and escaped in her to 
Montserrat (in the West Indies) which place had 
but just before been taken by the French. 

''Here I did not meet with the treatment which I 
expected; for on my arrival at Montserrat I was im- 
mediately taken up and put in prison, where I con- 
tinued twenty-four hours, and my boat taken from 
me. I was then sent to Guadaloupe, and examined 
by the Governor. I made known my case to him, by 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 159 

acquainting him with the misfortunes I had gone 
through in my captivity, and in making my escape. 
He seemed to commiserate me, gave me ten dollars 
for the boat that I escaped in, and provided a passage 
for me on board a French brigantine that was bound 
from Gaudaloupe to Philadelphia. 

"The vessel sailed in a few days, and now my pros- 
pects were favorable, but my misfortunes were not 
to end here, for after being out twenty-one days we 
fell in with the Anphitrite and Amphene, two British 
cruizers, off the Capes of Delaware, by which we were 
taken, carried in to New York and put on board the 
Jersey prison ship. After being on board about a 
week a cartel was fitted out for France, and I was 
sent on board as a French prisoner. The cartel was 
ordered for St. Maloes, and after a passage of thirty- 
two days we arrived safe at that place. 

"Finding no American vessel at St. Malo's, I went 
to the Commandant, and procured a pass to go by 
land to Port I'Orient. On my arrival there I found 
three American privateers belonging to Beverley in 
the Massachusetts. I was much elated at seeing so 
many of my countrymen, some of whom I was well 
■acquainted with. I immediately entered on board 
the Buccaneer, Captain Pheirson. We sailed on a 
cruise, and after being out eighteen days we returned 
to L'Orient with six prizes. Three days after our 
arrival in port we heard the joyful news of peace; on 
which the privateer was dismantled, the people dis- 
charged, and Captain P sailed on a merchant voyage 
to Norway. 

"I then entered on board a brig bound to Lisbon 
(Captain Ellenwood of Beverley) and arrived at 
Lisbon in eight days. We took in a cargo of salt, and 



160 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

sailed for Beverley, where we arrived the ninth of 
May, 1783. Being now only fifteen miles from home, 
I immediately set out for Cape Ann, went to my 
father's house, and had an agreeable meeting with my 
friends, after an absence of almost six years. 

John Blatchford 
New London, May 10th, 1788. 

"N. B. Those who are acquainted with the 
narrator will not scruple to give full credence to the 
foregoing account, and others may satisfy themselves 
by conversing with him. The scars he carries are a 
proof of his narrative, and a gentleman of New 
London who was several months with him, was ac- 
quainted with part of his sufferings, though it was 
out of his power to relieve him. He is a poor man 
with a wife and two children. His employment is 
fishing and coasting. Editor/' 

Our readers miay be interested to know what be- 
came of John Blatchford, who wrote, or dictated, the 
narrative we have given, in the year 1788. He was, 
at that time, a married man. He had married a young 
woman named Ann Grover. He entered the merchant 
marine, and died at Port au Prince about the year 
1794, when nearly thirty-three years of age. Thus 
early closed the career of a brave man, who had ex- 
perienced much hardship, and had suffered greatly 
from man's inhumanity to man, and who is, as far as 
we know, the only American prisoner sent to the 
East Indies who ever returned to tell the story of the 
barbarities inflicted upon him. 



CHAPTER XVII 

Benjamin Franklin and Others on the Subject 
OF American Prisoners 

WHEN Benjamin Franklin and Silas Deane 
were in Paris they wrote the following letter 
to Lord Stormont, the English Ambassador to France. 

Paris, April 2nd, 1777. 
My Lord : — 

We did ourselves the honor of writing some time 
since to your Lordship on the subject of exchanging 
prisoners : you did not condescend to give us any 
answer, and therefore we expect none to this. We, 
however, take the liberty of sending you copies of 
certain depositions which we shall transmit to Con- 
gress, whereby it will be known to your Court, that 
the United States are not unacquainted with the 
barbarous treatment their people receive when they 
have the misfortune to be your prisoners here in 
Europe, and that if your conduct towards us is not 
altered, it is not unlikely that severe reprisals may be 
thought justifiable from a necessity of putting some 
check to such abominable practices. For the sake of 
humanity it is to be wished that men would endeavor 
to alleviate the unavoidable miseries attending a state 
of war. It has been said that among the civihzed 
nations of Europe the ancient horrors of that state 
are much diminished ; but the compelling men by 
chains, stripes, and famine to fight against their 
friends and relatives, is a new mode of barbarity, 
which your nation alone has the honor of inventing, 
and the sending American prisoners of war to Africa 
and Asia, remote from all probability of exchange, 
—11 



162 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

and where they can scarce hope ever to hear from 
their famiUes, even if the unwholesomeness of the 
cHmate does not put a speedy end to their lives, is 
a manner of treating captives that you can justify by 
no other precedent or custom except that of the black 
savages of Guinea. We are your Lordship's most 
obedient, humble servants, 

Benjamin Franklin, 
Silas Deane. 

The reply to this letter was laconic. 

''The King's Ambassador recognizes no letters 
from Rebels, except when they come to ask mercy." 

Inclosed in the letter from our representatives were 
the following depositions. 

THE deposition OF ELIPHALET DOWNER 

Eliphalet Downer, Surgeon, taken in the Yankee 
privateer, testifies that after he was made prisoner 
by Captains Ross and Hodge, who took advantage 
of the generous conduct of Captain Johnson of the 
Yankee to them his prisoners, and of the confidence 
he placed in them in consequence of that conduct and 
their assurances; he and his countrymen were closely 
confined, yet assured that on their arrival in port they 
should be set at liberty, and these assurances were 
repeated in the most solemn manner, instead of which 
they were, on their approach to land, in the hot 
weather of August, shut up in a small cabin; the 
windows of which were spiked down and no air ad- 
mitted, insomuch that they were all in danger of suf- 
focation from the excessive heat. 

Three or four days after their arrival in the river 
Thames they were relieved from this situation in the 
middle of the night, hurried on board a tender and 



American Prisoners of the Revoi^ution 163 

sent down to Sheerness, where the deponent was put 
into the Ardent, and there falHng sick of a violent 
fever in consequence of such treatment, and languish- 
ing in that situation for some time, he was removed, 
still sick, to the Mars, and notwithstanding repeated 
petitions to be suffered to be sent to prison on shore, 
he was detained until having the appearance of a 
mortification in his legs, he was sent to Haslar hos- 
pital, from whence after recovering his health, he had 
the good fortune to make his escape. 

While on board those ships and in the hospital he 
was informed and believes that many of his country- 
men, after experiencing even worse treatment than he, 
were sent to the East Indies, and many of those 
taken at Quebec were sent to the coast of Africa, as 
soldiers. 

THE deposition OF CAPTAIN SETH CLARK OF NEW- 
BURY PORT IN THE STATE OF MASSACHUSETTS 
BAY IN AMERICA 

"This deponent saith that on his return from Cape 
Nichola Mole to Newbury Port, he was taken on the 
17th of September last by an armed schooner in his 

British Majesty's service, Coats, Esquire, 

Commander, and carried down to Jamaica, on his ar- 
rival at which place he was sent on board the Squirrel, 

another armed vessel, Douglas, Esquire, 

Commander, where, although master and half owner 
of the vessel in which he was taken, he was returned 
as a common sailor before the mast, and in that situa- 
tion sailed for England in the month of November, 
on the twenty-fifth of which month they took a 
schooner from Port a Pie to Charlestown, S. C, to 
which place she belonged, when the owner, Mr. Burt, 



164 American Prisoners of the Revoi^ution 

and the master, Mr. Bean, were brought on board. 
On the latter's denying he had any ship papers Cap- 
tain Douglas ordered him to be stripped and tied up 
and then whipped with a wire cat of nine tails that 
drew blood every stroke and then on his saying that 
he had thrown his papers overboard he was untied 
and ordered to his duty as a common sailor, with no 
place for himself or his people to lay on but the decks. 
On their arrival at Spithead, the deponent was re- 
moved to the Monarch, and there ordered to do duty 
as a fore-mast-man, and on his refusing on account of 
inability to do it, he was threatened by the Lieutenant, 
a Mr. Stoney, that if he spoke one word to the con- 
trary he should be brought to the gangway, and there 
severely flogged. 

''After this he was again removed and put on board 
the Bar-fleur, where he remained until the tenth of 
February. On board this ship the deponent saw sev- 
eral American prisoners, who were closely confined 
and ironed, with only four men's allowance to six. 
These prisoners and others informed this deponent 
that a number of American prisoners had been taken 
out of the ship and sent to the East Indies and the 
coast of Africa, which he has told would have been 
his fate, had he arrived sooner. 

"This deponent further saith. That in Haslar hos- 
pital, to which place on account of sickness he was re- 
moved from the Bar-fleur, he saw a Captain Chase of 
Providence, New England, who told him he had been 
taken in a sloop of which he was half owner and 
master, on his passage from Providence to South Car- 
olina, by an English transport, and turned over to a 
ship of war, where he was confined in irons thirteen 
weeks, insulted, beat, and abused by the petty officers 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 165 

and common sailors, and on being released from irons 
was ordered to do duty as a foremost man until his ar- 
rival in England, when being dangerously ill he was 
sent to said hospital." 
Paris March 30th. 1777. 

Benjamin Franklin, in a letter written in 1780, to 
a Mr. Hartley, an English gentleman who was opposed 
to the war, said that Congress had investigated the 
cruelties perpetrated by the English upon their de- 
fenceless prisoners, and had instructed him to prepare 
a school hook for the use of American children, to be 
illustrated by thirty-five good engravings, each to pic- 
ture som.e scene of horror, some enormity of suffer- 
ing, such as should indelibly impress upon the minds 
of the school children a dread of British rule, and a 
hatred of British malice and wickedness ! 

The old philosopher did not accomplish this task: 
had he done so it is improbable that we would have 
so long remained in ignorance of some of the facts 
which we are now endeavoring to collect. It will be 
pleasant to glance, for a moment, on the other side the 
subject. It is well known that there was a large party 
in England, who, like Benjamin Franklin's correspond- 
ent, were opposed to the war; men of humanity, fair- 
minded enough to sympathize with the struggles of an 
oppressed people, of the same blood as themselves. 

*'The Prisoners of 1776, A Relic of the Revolution," 
is a little book edited by the Rev. R. Livesey, and pub- 
lished in Boston, in 1854. The facts in this volume 
were complied from the journal of Charles Herbert of 
Newburyport, Mass. This young man was taken pris- 
oner in December, 1776. He was a sailor on board 
the brigantine Dolton. He and his companions were 
confined in the Old Mill Prison in Plymouth, England. 



166 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

Herbert, who was in his nineteenth year, was a pris- 
oner more than two years. He managed to keep a 
journal during his captivity, and has left us an ac- 
count of his treatment by the English which is a 
pleasant relief in its contrast to the dark pictures that 
we have drawn of the wretchedness of American pris- 
oners elsewhere. A collection of upwards of $30,0CX) 
was taken up in England for the relief of our pris- 
oners confined in English jails. 

Herbert secreted his journal in a chest which had a 
false bottom. It is too long to give in its entirety, but 
we have made a few extracts which will describe the 
treatment the men received in England, where all that 
was done was open to public inspection, and where no 
such inhuman monsters as Cunningham were suffered 
to work their evil will upon their victims. 

"Dec. 24th. 1776. We were taken by the Reason- 
able, man-of-war of 64 guns. I put on two shirts, 
pair of drawers and breeches, and trousers over them, 
two or three jackets, and a pair of new shoes, and then 
filled my bosom and pockets as full as I could carry. 
Nothing but a few old rags and twelve old blankets 
were sent to us. Ordered down to the cable tier. Al- 
most suffocated. Nothing but the bare cable to lie on, 
and that very uneven. 

"Jan. 15, 1777. We hear that the British forces 
have taken Fort Washington with a loss of 800." 

After several changes Herbert was put on board the 
Tarbay, a ship of 74 guns, and confined between decks, 
with not room for all to lie down at once. 

"Very cold. Have to lie on a wet deck without 
blankets. Some obliged to sit up all night." 

On the 18th of February they received flock beds 
and pillows, rugs, and blankets. "Ours are a great 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 167 

comfort to us after laying fifty-five nights without any, 
all the time since we were taken. * * * 

*'We are told that the Captain of this ship, whose 
name is Royer, gave us these clothes and beds out of 
his own pocket." 

On the twelfth of April he was carried on shore to 
the hospital, where his daily allowance was a pound of 
beef, a pound of potatoes, and three pints of beer. 

On the 7th of May he writes : "I now have a pound 
of bread, half a pound of mutton and a quart of beer 
daily. The doctor is very kind. Three of our com- 
pany have died." 

On the fifth of June he was committed to the Old 
Mill Prison at Plymouth. Many entries in his jour- 
nal record the escapes of his companions. "Captain 
Brown made his escape." "William Woodward of 
the charming Sallie escaped, etc., etc." 

June 6th he records : "Our allowance here in prison 
is a pound of beef, a pound of greens, and a quart 
of beer, and a little pot liquor that the greens and beef 
were boiled in, without any thickening." Still he de- 
clares that he has "a continued gnawing in his stom- 
ach." The people of the neighborhood came to see 
them daily when they v^^ere exercising in the prison 
yard, and sometimes gave them money and provisions 
through the pickets of the high fence that surrounded 
the prison grounds. Herbert had a mechanical turn, 
and made boxes which he sold to these visitors, pro- 
curing himself many comforts in this manner. 

About ten prisoners were brought in daily. They 
were constantly digging their way out, and were some- 
times recaptured, but a great number made their es- 
cape. On the twentieth of July he records that they 
begin to make a breach in the prison wall. "Their in- 



168 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

tention is to dig eighteen feet underground to get into 
a field on the other side of the wall. 

"We put all the dirt in our chests." 

August third he says: "There are 173 prisoners in 
the wards. On the fifth thirty-two escaped, but three 
were brought back. These were confined in the Black 
Hole forty days on half allowance, and obliged to lie 
on the bare floor. 

"September 12th. We had a paper wherein was a 
melancholy account of the barbarous treatment of 
American prisoners, taken at Ticonderoga. 

"Sept. 16th. Today about twenty old countrymen 
petitioned the Board for permission to go on board 
His Majesty's ships. 

"Jan. 7th. 1778. 289 prisoners here in Plymouth. 
In Portsmouth there are 140 prisoners. Today the 
prison was smoked with charcoal and brim-stone." 

He records the gift of clothes, blankets, and all sorts 
of provisions. They were allowed to wash at the 
pump in relays of six. Tobacco and everything nec- 
essary was freely given them. 

"Jan. 27th. The officers in a separate prison are al- 
lowed to burn candles in the evening until gun-fire, 
which is eight o'clock. 

"28th. Today some new washing troughs were 
brought up for us to wash our clothes in ; and now we 
have plenty of clothes, soap, water, and tubs to wash 
in. In general we are tolerably clean. 

"Feb. 1st. Sunday. Last evening between 7 and 9 
o'clock five of the officers in a separate prison, who 
had agreed with the sentry to let them go, made their 
escape and took two sentries with them. The five of- 
ficers were Captain Henry Johnston, Captain Eleazar 



American Prisoners of the Revolution Ks9 

Johnston, Offin Boardman, Samuel Treadwell, and one 
Mr. Deal. 

"Feb. 8th. Sunday. We have the paper wherein is 
an account of a letter from Dr. Franklin, Dean, and 
Lee, to Lord North, and to the ministry, putting them 
in mind of the abuse which the prisoners have had 
from time to time, and giving them to know that it is 
in the power of the Americans to make ample retalia- 
tion. * * * We learn that their answer was that 
in America there was an exchange." 

On the 9th of March he writes : "We are all strong, 
fat and hearty. 

"March 12th. Today our two fathers came to see us 
as they generally do once or twice a week. They are 
Mr. Heath, and Mr. Sorry, the former a Presbyterian 
minister, in Dock, the latter a merchant in Plymouth. 
They are the two agents appointed by the Committee 
in London to supply us with necessaries. A smile from 
them seems like a smile from a father. They tell us 
that everything goes well on our side. 

"April 7th. Today the latter (Mr. Sorry) came to 
see us, and we desired him, for the future, to send us 
a four penny white loaf instead of a six-penny one 
to each mess, per day, for we have more provision than 
many of us want to eat, and any person can easily con- 
jecture that prisoners, in our situation, who have 
suffered so much for the want of provisions would 
abhor such an act as to waste what we have suffered 
so much for the want of." 

Herbert was liberated at the end of two years. 
Enough has been quoted to prove the humanity with 
which the prisoners at Plymouth were treated. He 
gives a valuable list of crews in Old Mill Prison, Ply- 
mouth, during the time of his incarceration, with the 



17^0 American Prisoners of the Revolution 



names of captains, number that escaped, those who 
died, and those who joined the English. 



NAMES OF SHIPS AND CAPTAINS 

Brig Dolton, Capt. Johnston . . 
Sloop Charming Sally, Capt. Brown 
Brig. Fancy, Capt. Lee .... 
Brig Lexington, Capt. Johnston . 
Schooner Warren, Capt. Ravel . 



Joined 

No. of British 

Men Escaped Died Ships 

21 



120 
52 
56 
51 
40 



6 

11 



PARTS OF CREWS TAKEN INTO PLYMOUTH 

3 
2 


1 
1 
1 






1 






Brig Freedom, Capt. Euston ... 11 
Ship Reprisal, Capt. Weeks ... 10 

Sloop Hawk 6 

6 
3 
7 
2 



Schooner Hawk, Capt. Hibbert . . 
Schooner Black Snake, Capt. Lucran . 
Ship Oliver Cromwell ...... 

Letter of Marque Janey, Capt. Rollo . 

Brig Cabot 3 

True Blue, Capt. Furlong .... 1 

Ranger 1 

Sloop Lucretia 2 

Musquito Tender 1 

Schooner, Capt. Burnell 2 

Sturdy Beggar 3 

Revenge, Capt. Cunningham ... 3 



Total , .... 380 55 

Remained in Prison until exchanged, 244. 



19 62 



Before we leave the subject of Plymouth we must 
record the fact that some time in the year 1779 a prize 
was brought into the harbor captured from the French 
with 80 French prisoners. The English crew put in 
charge of the prize procured liquor, and, in company 
of some of the loose women of the town, went below 
to make a night of it. In the dead of night the French- 
men seized the ship, secured the hatches, cut the cable, 
took her out of port, homeward bound, and escaped. 



American Prisoners of the Revoi^ution 171 

A writer in the London Gazette in a letter to the 
Lord Mayor, dated August 6th, 1776, says: "I was 
last week on board the American privateer called the 
Yankee, commanded by Captain Johnson, and lately 
brought into this port by Captain Ross, who com- 
manded one of the West India sugar ships, taken by 
the privateer in July last: and as an Englishman I 
earnestly wish your Lordship, who is so happily placed 
at the head of this great city (justly famed for its 
great humanity even to its enemies), would be pleased 
to go likewise, or send proper persons, to see the truly 
shocking and I may say barbarous and miserable con- 
dition of the unfortunate American prisoners, who, 
however criminal they may be thought to have been, 
are deserving of pity, and entitled to common human- 
ity. 

''They are twenty-five in number, and all inhumanly 
shut close down, like wild beasts, in a small stinking 
apartment, in the hold of a sloop, about seventy tons 
burden, without a breath of air, in this sultry season, 
but what they receive from a small grating overhead, 
the openings in which are not more than two inches 
square in any part, and through which the sun beats 
intensely hot all day, only two or three being permitted 
to come on deck at a time ; and then tliey are exposed 
in the open sun, which is reflected from the decks like 
a burning glass. 

"I do not at all exaggerate, my lord, I speak the 
truth, and the resemblance that this barbarity bears to 
the memorable Black Hole at Calcutta, as a gentleman 
present on Saturday observed, strikes every eye at the 
sight. All England ought to know that the same game 
is now acting upon the Thames on board this privateer, 
that all the world cried out against,, and shuddered at 



172 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

the mention of in India, some years ago, as practised 
on Captain Hollowell and other of the King's good 
subjects. The putrid steams issuing from the hold are 
so hot and ofifensive that one cannot, without the ut- 
most danger, breathe over it, and I should not be at all 
surprised if it should cause a plague to spread. 

"The miserable wretches below look like persons in 
a hot bath, panting, sweating, and fainting, for want 
of air; and the surgeon declares that they must all 
soon perish in this situation, especially as they are al- 
most all in a sickly state from bilious disorders. 

"The captain and surgeon, it is true, have the liberty 
of the cabin (if it deserves the name of a cabin), and 
make no complaints on their own account. They are 
both sensible and well behaved young men, and can 
give a very good account of themselves, having no 
signs of fear, and being supported by a consciousness 
of the justice of their cause. 

"They are men of character, of good families in 
New England, and highly respected in their different 
occupations ; but being stripped of their all by the 
burning of towns^ and other destructive measures of 
the present unnatural war, were forced to take the 
disagreeable method of making reprisals to maintain 
themselves and their children rather than starve. 
* * * English prisoners taken by the Ameri- 
cans have been treated with the most remark- 
able tenderness and generosity, as numbers who 
are safely returned to England most freely con- 
fess, to the honor of our brethern in the colonies, 
and it is a fact, which can be well attested in London, 
that this very surgeon on board the privateer, after 
the battle of Lexington, April 19th, 1775, for many 
days voluntarily and generously without fee or re- 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 173 

ward employed himself in dressing the King's 
wounded soldiers, who but an hour before would have 
shot him if they could have come at him, and in mak- 
ing a collection for their refreshment, of wine, linen, 
money, etc., in the town where he lived. * * * 
The capture of the privateer was, solely owing to the 
ill-judged lenity and brotherly kindness of Captain 
Johnson, who not considering his English prisoners in 
the same light that he would French or Spanish, put 
them under no sort of confinement, but permitted them 
to walk the decks as freely as his own people at all 
times. Taking advantage of this indulgence the pris- 
oners one day watched their opportunity when most 
of the privateers people were below, and asleep, shut 
down the hatches, and making all fast, had immediate 
possession of the vessel without using any force." 

What the effect of this generous letter was we have 
no means of discovering. It displays the sentiments of 
a large party in England, who bitterly condemned the 
''unnatural war against the Colonies." 



CHAPTER XVIII 
The Adventures of Andrew Sherburne 

WHILE we are on the subject of the treatment of 
American prisoners in England, which forms a 
most grateful contrast to that which they received in 
New York, Philadelphia, and other parts of America, 
we will give an abstract of the adventures of another 
young man who was confined in the Old Mill Prison 
at Plymouth, England. This young man was named 
Andrew Sherburne. He was born at Rye, New 
Hampshire, on the 30th of September, 1765. 

He first served on the continental ship of war. Ran- 
ger, which shipped a crew at Portsmouth, N. H. His 
father consented that he should go with her, and his 
two half uncles, Timothy and James Weymouth, were 
on board. There were about forty boys in the crew. 
Andrew was then in his fourteenth year, and was em- 
ployed as waiter to the boatswain. The vessel sailed 
in the month of June, 1779. She took ten prizes and 
sailed for home, where she arrived in August, 1779. 
Next year she sailed again on another cruise, but was 
taken prisoner by the British at Charleston, S. C, on 
the 12th of May, 1780. 

''Our officers," says Sherburne, "were paroled and 
allowed to retain their waiters. We were for several 
days entirely destitute of provisions except muscles, 
which we gathered from the muscle beds. I was at 
this time waiter to Captain Pierce Powers, master's 
mate of the Ranger. He treated me with the kindness 
of a father." 

"At this time," he continues, "Captain Simpson and 
the other officers procured a small vessel which was 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 175 

employed as a cartel, to transport the officers, their 
boys and baggage, agreeably to the terms of capitula- 
tion, to Newport, R. L It being difficult to obtain suit- 
able casks for water they procured such as they could. 
These proved to be foul, and after we got to sea our 
water became filthy and extremely noxious. Very few 
if any on board escaped an attack of the diarrhoea." 

After his return he next shipped under Captain 
Wilds on the Greyhound, from Portsmouth, N. H,, 
and at last, after many adventures, was taken pris- 
oner by Newfoundlanders, ofif Newfoundland. He 
was then put on board the Fairy, a British sloop of 
war, commanded by Captain Yeo, "a complete ty- 
rant." ''Wilds and myself," he continues, "were 
called to the quarter deck, and after having been 
asked a few questions by Captain Yeo, he turned to 
his officers and said : 'They are a couple of fine lads 
for his Majesty's service. Mr. Gray, see that they 
do their duty.' " 

When the sloop arrived in England the boys com- 
plained that they were prisoners of war, in conse- 
quence of which they were sent to the Old Mill Prison 
at Plymouth, accused of "rebellion, piracy, and high 
treason." 

Here they found acquaintances from Portsmouth, 
N. H. The other prisoners were very kind to young 
Sherburne, gave him clothing and sent him to a 
school which was kept in the prison. Ship building 
and other arts were carried on in this place, and he 
learned navigation, which was of great service to him 
in after life. 

The fare, he declared, was tolerably good, but 
there was not enough of it. He amused himself by 
making little toy ships. He became ill and delirious, 



176 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

but recovered in time to be sent to America when a 
general exchange of prisoners was effected in 1781. 
The rest of his adventures has nothing to do with 
prisons, in England, and shall not now be detailed. 

Although the accounts of the English prisons left 
by Herbert, Sherburne and others are so favorable, 
yet it seems that, after the year 1780, there was some 
cause of complaint even there. We will quote a pas- 
sage from the British Annual Register to prove this 
statement. This passage we take from the Register 
for 1781, page 152. 

"A petition was presented to the House the same 
day (June 20th) by Mr. Fox, from the American 
prisoners in A'lill Prison, Plymouth, setting forth that 
they were treated with less humanity than the French 
and Spanish, though by reason that they had no Agent 
established in this country for their protection, they 
were entitled to expect a larger share of indulgence 
than others. They had not a sufficient allowance of 
bread, and were very scantily furnished with cloth- 
ing. 

**A similar petition was presented to the House 
of Peers by the Duke of Richmond, and these peti- 
tions occasioned considerable debate in both Houses. 
Several motions were grounded on these petitions, 
but to those proposed by the Lords and gentlemen 
in the opposition, were determined in the negative, 
and others to exculpate the Government in this busi- 
ness were resolved in the affirmative. It appeared 
upon inquiry, that the American prisoners were al- 
lowed a half pound of bread less per day than the 
French and Spanish prisoners. But the petitions of 
the Americans produced no alterations in their favor, 
and the conduct of the Administration was equally 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 177 

unpolitic and illiberal. The additional allowance, which 
was solicited on behalf of the prisoners, could be no 
object, either to Government or to the Nation, and 
it was certainly unwise, by treating American pris- 
oners worse than those of France or Spain, to in- 
crease the fatal animosity which had unhappily taken 
place between the mother country and the Colonies, 
and this, too, at a period when the subjugation of the 
latter had become hopeless." 
—12 



CHAPTER XIX 

More about the Engush Prisons — Memoir of 
Eli Bickford — Captain Fanning 

ELI Bickford, who was born on the 29th of Sep- 
tember, 1754, in the town of Durham, N. H., 
and enlisted on a privateer, was taken prisoner by the 
British, confined at first on the Old Jersey, and after- 
wards sent to England with many others, in a vessel 
commanded by Captain Smallcorn, whom he called 
"a sample of the 'smallest corn he had ever met." 
While on board this vessel he was taken down with 
the smallpox. No beds or bedding were provided 
for the prisoners and a plank on deck was his only pil- 
low. He and his fellow sufferers were treated with 
great severity, and insulted at every turn. When 
they reached England they were sent to prison, where 
he remained in close confinement for four years and 
six months. 

Finding a piece of a door hinge, he and some of 
the others endeavored to make their escape by dig- 
ging a passage under the walls. A report of their 
proceedings reached the jailer, but, secure in the 
strength of the walls he did not believe it. This jailor 
would frequently jest with Bickford on the subject, 
asking him when he intended to make his escape. His 
answers were so truthful and accurate that they 
served to blind the jailor still further. One morning 
as this official entered the prison he said : "Well, Bick- 
ford, how soon will you be ready to go out?" 

"Tomorrow night!" answered Bickford. 

"O, that's only some of your nonsense," he replied. 

However, it was true. 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 179 

After digging a passage for some days under- 
ground, the prisoners found themselves under an ad- 
joining house. They proceeded to take up the brick 
floor, unlocked the door and passed out, without dis- 
turbing the inmates, who were all asleep. Unable to 
escape they concealed themselves for awhile, and then 
tamely gave themselves up. Such a vigilant watch 
was kept upon the house after they were missed from 
the prison, that they had no other choice. So they 
made a contract with a man who was to return them 
to the prison, and then give them half of the reward 
of forty shillings which was offered for their re-cap- 
ture. So successful was this expedient that it was 
often put into operation when they needed money. 

As a punishment for endeavoring to escape they 
were confined in the Black Hole for a week on bread 
and water. 

Bickford describes the prison regulations for pre- 
serving order which were made and carried out by 
the prisoners themselves. If a difficulty arose be- 
tween two of them it was settled in the following 
manner. The prisoners formed a circle in the centre 
of which the disputants took their stand, and ex- 
changed a few rounds of well-directed blows, after 
which they shook hands, and were better friends than 
before. 

Bickford was not released until peace was de- 
clared. He then returned to his family, who had long 
thought him dead. It was on Sunday morning that 
he reached his native town. As he passed the meet- 
ing house he was recognized, and the whole congrega- 
tion ran out to see and greet him. 

He had but seven dollars as his whole capital when 
he married. He moved to Vermont, where he farmed 



180 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

a small place, and succeeded in making a comfortable 

livelihood. He attained the great age of 101, and was 
one of the last surviving prisoners of the Revolution. 

THE ADVENTURES OF A NAVAL OFFICER 

In the year 1806 a little book with this title was pub- 
lished in New York, by Captain Nathaniel Fanning. 
It was dedicated to John Jackson, Esquire, the man 
who did so much to interest the public in the pres- 
ervation and interment of the remains of the martyrs 
of the priscnships in the Wallabout. 

Fanning was born in Connecticut, in the year 1755. 
On the 26th of May, 1778, he went on board the brig 
Angelica, commanded by Captain William Dennis, 
which was about to sail on a six months cruise. 
There were 98 men and boys in the crew, 
and Fanning was prize-master on board the 
privateer. She was captured by the Andromeda, a 
frigate of 28 guns, five days from Philadelphia, with 
General Howe on board on his way back to England. 

All the prisoners were paraded on deck and asked 
if they were willing to engage in his British Majesty's 
service. Nearly all answered in the negative. They 
were then told that they were "a set of rebels,"and 
that it was more than probable that they would all be 
hung at Portsmouth. 

Their baggage was then taken away, and they were 
confined in the hold of the ship. Their clothes were 
stolen by the sailors, and a frock and cheap trousers 
dealt out to each man in their place. 

The heat was intolerable in the hold, although they 
went naked. In this condition they plotted to seize 
the vessel, and procured some weapons through the 
agency of their surgeon. Spencer, the captain's clerk^ 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 181 

betrayed them to the captain of the Andromeda, and, 
after that, the hatches were barred down, and they 
began to think that they would all die of suffocation. 
The sentence pronounced upon them was that they 
should be allowed only half a pint of water a day for 
each man, and barely food enough to sustain life. 

Their condition would have been terrible, but, for- 
tunately for them, they were lodged upon the water 
casks, over which was constructed a temporary deck. 
By boring holes in the planks they managed, by means 
of a proof glass, to obtain all the water they needed. 

Between them and the general's store room was 
nothing but a partition of plank. They went to work 
to make an aperture through which a man could pass 
into this store room. A young mxan named Howard 
from Rhode Island was their instigator in all these 
operations. They discovered that one of the shift- 
ing boards abaft the pump room was loose, and that 
they could ship and unship it as they pleased. When 
it was unshipped there was just room for a man to 
crawl into the store room. ''Howard first went in," 
writes Captain Fanning, "and presently desired me 
to hand him a mug or can with a proof glass. A few 
minutes after he handed me back the same full, say- 
ing: *My friends, as good Madeira wine as ever was 
drank at the table of an Emperor !' 

"I took it from his hands and drank about half a 
pint. 

"Thus we lived like hearty fellows, taking care 
every night to secure provisions, dried fruit, and 
wines for the day following * . * * and all with- 
out our enemies' knowledge." 

Scurvy broke out among the crew, and some of the 
British sailors died, but the Americans were all 
"brave and hearty." 



182 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

"The Captain would say, 'What! are none of them 
damned Yankees sick? Damn them, there's nothing 
but thunder and Hghtning will kill 'em.' " On the 
thirtieth of June the vessel arrived at Portsmouth. 
The prisoners were sent to Hazel hospital, to be ex- 
amined by the Commissioners of the Admiralty, and 
then marched to Forton prison, where they were com- 
mitted under the charges of piracy and high treason. 
This prison was about two miles from Portsmouth 
harbor, and consisted of two commodious buildings, 
with a yard between them large enough to parade a 
guard of 100 men, which was the number required 
to maintain law and order at the station. 

They also had a spacious lot of about three quar- 
ters of an acre in extent, adjoining the houses, in 
which they took their daily exercise. In the middle 
of this lot was a shed with seats. It was open on all 
sides. The lot was surrounded by a wall of iron 
pickets, eight feet in height. The agent for American 
prisoners was nicknamed by them "the old crab." He 
was very old and ugly. 

Only three-fourths of the usual allowance to pris- 
oners of war was dealt out to them, and they seem to 
have fared much worse than the inmates of the Old 
Mill Prison at Plymouth. 

Captain Fanning declares that they were half 
starved, and would sometimes beg bones from the 
people who came to look at them. When they ob- 
tained bones they would dig out the marrow, and de- 
vour it. The guard was cruel and spiteful. One day 
they heated some pokers red hot and began to burn 
the prisoners' shirts that were hung up to dry. These 
men begged the guard, in a very civil manner, not to 
burn all their shirts, as they had only one apiece. 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 183 

This remonstrance producing no effect they then ran 
to the pickets and snatched away their shirts. At 
this the officer on command ordered a sentinel to fire 
on them. This he did, kilHng one prisoner, and 
wounding several. There were three hundred Ameri- 
can prisoners in the yard at this time. 

These prisons appear to have been very imperfectly 
guarded, and the regular occupation of the captives, 
whenever their guards were asleep or absent, was to 
make excavations for the purpose of escaping. A 
great many regained their freedom in this manner,' 
though some were occasionally brought back and pun- 
ished by being shut up for forty days in the Black 
Hole on bread and water. Some, less fortunate, re- 
mained three or four years in the prison. 

There was always digging going on in some part 
of the prison and as soon as one hole was discovered 
and plastered up, another would be begun. For a 
long time they concealed the dirt that they took out 
of these excavations in an old stack of disused chim- 
neys. The hours for performing the work were be- 
tween eleven and three o'clock at night. Early in the 
morning they ceased from their labors, concealing the 
hole they had made by pasting white paper over it. 

There was a school kept constantly in the prison, 
where many of them had the first opportunity that 
had ever been granted them of receiving an education. 
Many learned to read and write, and became profi- 
cient in French. 

At one time there were 367 officers confined in this 
place. In the course of twelve months 138 of them 
escaped and got safely to France. While some of 
the men were digging at night, others would be danc- 
ing to drown the noise. They had several violins, and 
seem to have been a reckless and jovial set. 



184 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

The officers bunked on the second floor over the 
guard room of the English officers. At times they 
would make so much noise that the guard would rush 
up the stairs, only to find all lights out and every 
man asleep and snoring in his hammock. They would 
relieve their feelings by a volley of abusive language 
and go down stairs again, when instantly the whole 
company would be on their feet, the violins would 
strike up, and the fun be more fast and furious than 
ever. These rushes of the guard would sometimes 
be repeated several times a night, when they would 
always And the prisoners in their hammocks. Each 
hammock had what was called a "king's rug," a straw 
bed, and pillow. 

At one time several men were suddenly taken sick, 
with strong symptoms of poison. They were removed 
to the hospital, and for a time, there was great alarm. 
The prisoners feared that "the same game was play- 
ing here as had been done on the Old Jersey, where 
we had heard that thousands of our countrymen had 
died." The poison employed in this instance was 
glass pounded fine and cooked with their bread. 

An English clergyman named Wren sympathized 
strongly with the prisoners and assisted them to es- 
cape. He lived at Gosport, and if any of the cap- 
tives were so fortunate as to dig themselves out and 
succeed in reaching his house, they were safe. This 
good man begged money and food for "his children," 
as he called them. 

On the second of June, 1779, 120 of them were 
exchanged. There were then 600 confined in that 
prison. On the 6th of June they sailed for Nantes in 
France. The French treated them with great kind- 
ness, made up a purse for them, and gave them decent 
clothing. 



American Prisoners of the RevoIvUtion 185 

Fanning next went to L'Orient, and there met John 
Paul Jones, who invited him to go on board the Bon 
Homme Richard as a midshipman. They sailed on the 
14th of August on the memorable expedition to the 
British Channel. 

After being with Jones for some time Fanning, on 
the 23rd of March, 1781, sailed for home in a priva- 
teer from Morlaix, France. This privateer was cap- 
tured by the English frigate, Aurora. 

"Captain Anthon and myself and crew," writes 
Mr. Fanning, "were all ordered to a prison at about 
two miles from Falmouth. The very dirtiest and most 
loathsome building I ever saw. Swarms of lice, re- 
markably fat and full grown; bed bugs, and fleas. I 
believe the former were of Dutch extraction, as there 
were confined here a number of Dutch prisoners of 
war, and such a company of dirty fellows I never 
saw before or since." 

Yet these same poor fellows ceded to Captain An- 
thon and Mr. Fanning a corner of the prison for 
their private use. This they managed to get thoroughly 
cleansed, screened themselves off with some sheets, 
provided themselves with large swinging cots, and 
were tolerably comfortable. They were paroled and 
allowed full liberty within bounds, which were a mile 
and a half from the prison. In about six weeks Fan- 
ning was again exchanged, and went to Cherbourg 
in France, where he met Captain Manly, who had 
just escaped from the Mill prison after three years 
confinment. 



CHAPTER XX 
Some Southern Naval Prisoners 

VERY little is known of the State navies of the 
south during the Revolution. Each State had 
her own small navy, and many were the interesting ad- 
ventures, some successful, and others unfortunate, 
that the hardy sailors encountered. The story of each 
one of these little vessels would be as interesting as 
a romance, but we are here only concerned with the 
meagre accounts that have reached us of the suffer- 
ings of some of the crews of the privateers who were 
so unlucky as to fall into the hands of the enemy. 

In the infant navy of Virginia were many small, 
extremely fleet vessels. The names of some of the 
Virginia ships, built at Gosport, Fredericksburg, and 
other Virginia towns, were the Tartar, Oxford, 
Thetis, Virginia, Industry, Cormorant, Loyalist 
(which appears to have been captured from the 
British), Pocohontas, Dragon, Washington, Tempest, 
Defiance, Oliver Cromwell, Renown, Apollo, and the 
Marquis Lafayette. Virginia also ow^ned a prison- 
ship called the Gloucester. Brigs and brigantines 
owned by the State were called the Raleigh, Jefferson, 
Sallie Norton, Northampton, Hampton, Greyhound, 
Dolphin, Liberty, Mosquito, Rochester, Willing Lass, 
Wilkes, American Fabius, Morning Star, and Mars. 
Schooners were the Adventure, Hornet, Speedwell, 
Lewis, Nicholson, Experiment, Harrison, Mayflower, 
Revenge, Peace and Plenty, Patriot, Liberty, and the 
Betsy. Sloops were the Virginia, Rattlesnake, Scor- 
pion, Congress, Liberty, Eminence, Game-Cock, and 
the American Congress. Some of the galleys were the 



American Prisoners of the Revoi^ution 187 

Accomac, Diligence, Hero, Gloucester, Safeguard, 
Manly, Henry, Norfolk, Revenge, Caswell, Protector, 
Washington, Page, Lewis, Dragon, and Dasher. 
There were two armed pilot boats named Molly and 
Fly. Barges were the York and Richmond. The Ox- 
ford, Cormorant, and LoyaHst were prizes. The two 
latter were taken from the English by the French and 
sold to Virginia. 

What an interesting book might be written about 
this little navy! Nearly all were destined to fall at 
last into the hands of the enemy; their crews to lan- 
guish out the remainder of their days in foul dun- 
geons, where famine and disease made short work 
of them. Little remains to us now except the names 
of these vessels. 

The Virginia was built at Gosport. The Dragon 
and some others were built at Fredericksburg. Many 
were built at Norfolk. 

The Hermit was early captured by the British. The 
gallant little Mosquito was taken by the Ariadne. Her 
crew was confined in a loathsome jail at Barbadoes. 
But her officers were sent to England, and confined 
in Fortune jail at Gosport. They succeeded in escap- 
ing and made their way to France. The names of 
these officers were Captain John Harris; Lieutenant 
Chamberlayne ; Midshipman Alexander Moore; 
Alexander Dock, Captain of Marines; and George 
Catlett, Lieutenant of Marines. 

The Raleigh was captured by the British frigate 
Thames. Her crew was so shamefully maltreated 
that upon representations made to the Council of 
State upon their condition, it was recommended that 
by way of retaliation the crew of the Solebay, a sloop 
of war which had fallen into the hands of the Amer- 



188 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

icans, should be visited with the Hke severe treatment. 
To what extent this was carried out we cannot dis- 
cover. 

The Scorpion was taken by the British in the year 
1781, a fatal year for the navy of Virginia. 

In the year 1857 an unsigned article on the subject 
of the Virginia Navy was published in the Southern 
Literary Messenger, which goes on to say: "But of 
all the sufferings in these troublous times none en- 
dured such horrors as did those Americans who were 
so unfortunate as to become prisoners of war to the 
British. They were treated more as felons than as 
honorable enemies. It can scarcely be credited that 
an enlightened people would thus have been so lost 
to the common instincts of humanity, as were they in 
their conduct towards men of the same blood, and 
speaking the same language with themselves. True 
it is they sometimes excused the cruelty of their pro- 
cedures by avowing in many instances their prison- 
ers were deserters from the English flag, and were to 
be dealt with accordingly. Be this as it may, no in- 
stance is on record where a Tory whom the Ameri- 
cans had good cause to regard as a traitor, was visited 
with the severities which characterized the treatment 
of the ordinary military captives, on the part of the 
English authorities. * * * The patriotic seamen 
of the Virginia navy were no exceptions to the rule 
when they fell into the hands of the more powerful 
lords of the ocean. They were carried in numbers 
to Bermuda, and to the West Indies, and cast into 
loathsome and pestilential prisons, from which a 
few sometimes managed to escape, at the peril of their 
lives. Respect of position and rank found no favor 
in the eyes of their ungenerous captors, and no ap- 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 189 

peal could reach their hearts except through the 
promises of bribes. Many languished and died in 
those places, away from country and friends, whose 
fate was not known until long after they had passed 
away. But it was not altogether abroad that they 
were so cruelly maltreated. The record of their sut- 
ferings in the prisons of the enemy, in our own 
country, is left to testify against these relentless per- 
secutors. 

"In New York and Halifax many of the Virginian 
officers and seamen were relieved of their pains, alone 
by the hand of death; and in their own State, at 
Portsmouth, the like fate overtook many more, who 
had endured horrors rivalled only by the terrors of 
the Black Hole of Calcutta. ^ ^ ^ The reader 
will agree that we do not exaggerate when he shall 
have seen the case as given under oath by one who 
was in every respect a competent witness. 

**It will be remembered that, in another part of this 
narrative, mention was made of the loss in Lynhaven 
Bay of the galley Dasher, and the capture of the of- 
ficers and the crew. Captain WiUis Wilson was her 
unfortunate commander on that occasion. He and 
his men were confined in the Provost Jail at Ports- 
mouth, Virginia, and after his release he made pubhc 
the 'secrets' of that 'Prison House,' by the following 
deposition, which is copied from the original docu- 
ment. 

" 'The deposition of Willis Wilson, being first 
sworn deposes and sayeth: That about the 23rd 
July last the deponent was taken a prisoner of war ; 
was conducted to Portsmouth (Virginia) after hav- 
ing been plundered of all his clothing, etc., and there 
lodged with about 190 other prisoners, in the Provost. 



190 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

This deponent during twenty odd days was a specta- 
tor to the most savage cruelty with which the un- 
happy prisoners were treated by the EngHsh. The 
deponent has every reason to beHeve there was a pre- 
meditated scheme to infect all the prisoners who had 
not been infected with the smallpox. There were 
upwards of 100 prisoners who never had the dis- 
order, notwithstanding which negroes, with the in- 
fection upon them, were lodged under the same roof 
of the Provost. Others were sent in to attend upon 
the prisoners, with the scabs of that disorder upon 
them. 

" 'Some of the prisoners soon caught the disorder, 
others were down with the flux, and some from 
fevers. From such a complication of disorders 'twas 
thought expedient to petition General O'Hara who 
was then commanding officer, for a removal of the 
sick, or those who were not, as yet, infected with the 
smallpox. Accordingly a petition was sent by Dr. 
Smith who shortly returned with a verbal answer, 
as he said, from the General. He said the General 
desired him to inform the prisoners that the law of 
nations was annihilated; that he had nothing then to 
bind them but bolts and bars, and they were to con- 
tinue where they were, but that they were free agents 
to inoculate if they chose. 

" 'About thirty agreed with the same Smith to in- 
oculate them at a guinea a man; he performed the 
operation, received his guinea from many, and then 
left them to shift for themselves, though he had 
agreed to attend them through the disorder. Many 
of them, as well as those who took it in the natural] 
way, died. Colonel Gee, with many respectable char- 
acters, fell victims to the unrelenting cruelty of, 
O'Hara, who would admit of no discrimination be- 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 191 

tween the officers, privates, negroes, and felons; but 
promiscuously confined the whole in one house. 
* * * They also suffered often from want of 
water, and such as they got was very muddy and un- 
fit to drink. 

"Willis Wilson. 
" *This day came before me Captain Willis Wilson 
and made oath that the above is true. 

'''Samuel Thorogood.'" 

There is much of great interest in this article on 
the Virginia Navy which is not to our present pur- 
pose. The writer goes on to tell how, on one oc- 
casion, the ship Favorite, bearing a flag of truce, was 
returning to Virginia, with a number of Americans 
who had just been liberated or exchanged in Bermuda, 
when she was overhauled by a British man-of-war, 
and both her crew and passengers robbed of all they 
had. The British ships which committed this dastardly 
deed were the Tiger, of 14 guns, and the schooner 
Surprise, of 10 guns. 

Captain James Barron, afterwards Commodore 
Barron, was the master spirit of the service in Vir- 
ginia. One of the Virginian vessels, very appro- 
priately named the Victory, was commanded by him, 
and was never defeated. 

In 1781 Joseph Galloway wrote a letter to Lord 
Howe in which he says : "The rebel navy has been 
in a great measure destroyed by the small British 
force remaining in America, and the privateers sent 
out from New York. Their navy, which consisted, 
at the time of your departure, of about thirty vessels, 
is now reduced to eight, and the number of priva- 
teers fitted out in New England amounting to an 
hundred and upwards is now less than forty." 



CHAPTER XXI 

Extracts from Newspapers — Some of the Prison 
Ships — Case of Captain Birdsall 

AT THE risk of repetition of some facts that have 
already been given, we must again refer the 
reader to some extracts from the newspapers of the 
day. In this instance the truth can best be estab- 
lished by the mouths of many witnesses, and we do 
not hesitate to give the English side whenever we 
have been able to discover anything bearing on the 
subject in the so-called loyal periodicals of the time. 

From Freeman's Journal, date of Jan. 19th, 1777, 
we take the following: 

"General Howe has discharged all the privates who 
were prisoners in New York. Half he sent to the 
world of spirits for want of food : the others he hath 
sent to warn their countrymen of the danger of fall- 
ing into his hands, and to convince them by ocular 
demonstration, that it is infinitely better to be slain 
in battle, than to be taken prisoner by British brutes, 
whose tender mercies are cruelties," 

In the Connecticut Journal of Jan. 30th, 1777, is the 
following : 

**This account of the sufferings of these un- 
fortunate men was obtained from the prisoners them- 
selves. As soon as they were taken they were robbed 
of all their baggage; of whatever money they had, 
though it were of paper; of their silver shoe buckles 
and knee buckles, etc. ; and many were stripped al- 
most of their clothes. Especially those who had good 
clothes were stripped at once, being told that such 
were 'too good for rebels.' 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 193 

"Thus deprived of their clothes and baggage, they 
were unable to shift even their linen, and were obliged 
to wear the same shirts for even three or four months 
together, whereby they became extremely nasty; and 
this of itself was sufficient to bring on them many 
mortal diseases. 

"After they were taken they were in the first place 
put on board the ships, and thrust down into the hold, 
where not a breath of fresh air could be obtained, and 
they were nearly suffocated for want of air. 

"Some who were taken at Fort Washington were 
first in this manner thrust down into the holds of 
vessels in such numbers that even in the cold season 
of Novemiber they could scarcely bear any clothes on 
them, being kept in a constant sweat. Yet these same 
persons, after lying in this situation awhile, till the 
pores of their bodies were as perfectly open as pos- 
sible, were of a sudden taken out and put into some 
of the churches of New York, without covering, or 
a spark of fire, where they suft'ered as much by the 
cold as they did by the sweating stagnation of the air 
in the other situation; and the consequence was that 
they took such colds as brought on the most fatal 
diseases, and swept them off almost beyond con- 
ception. 

"Besides these things they suffered severely for 
want of provisions. The commissioners pretended to 
allow a half a pound of bread, and four ounces of 
pork per day; but of this pittance they were much 
cut short. What was given them for three days was 
not enough for one day and, in some instances, they 
went for three days without a single mouthful of 
food of any kind. They were pinched to such an ex- 
tent that some on board the ships would pick up and 
—13 



194 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

eat the salt that happened to be scattered there ; others 
gathered up the bran which the Hght horse wasted, 
and eat it, mixed with dirt and filth as it was. 

"Nor was this all, both the bread and pork which 
they did allow them was extremely bad. For the 
bread, some of it was made out of the bran which 
they brought over to feed their light horse, and the 
rest of it was so muddy, and the pork so damnified, 
being so soaked in bilge water during the transporta- 
tion from Europe, that they were not fit to be eaten 
by human creatures, and when they were eaten were 
very unwholesome. Such bread and pork as they 
would not pretend to give to their own countrymen 
they gave to our poor sick dying prisoners. 

"Nor were they in this doleful condition allowed 
a sufficiency of water. One would have thought that 
water was so cheap and plentiful an element, that 
they would not have grudged them that. But there 
are, it seems, no bounds to their cruelty. The water 
allowed them was so brackish, and withal nasty, that 
they could not drink it until reduced to extremity. 
Nor did they let them have a sufficiency of even such 
water as this. 

"When winter came on, our people suffered ex- 
tremely for want of fire and clothes to keep them 
warm. They were confined in churches where there 
were no fireplaces that they could make fires, even if 
they had wood. But wood was only allowed them for 
cooking their pittance of victuals; and for that pur- 
pose very sparingly. They had none to keep them 
warm even in the extremest of weather, although they 
were almost naked, and the few clothes they had 
were their summer clothes. Nor had they a single 
blanket, nor any bedding, not even straw allowed them 
until a little before Christmas. 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 195 

"At the time those were taken on Long Island a 
considerable part of them were sick of the dysentery ; 
and with this distemper on them were first crowded 
on board the ships, afterwards in the churches in New 
York, three, four or five hundred together, without 
any blankets, or anything for even the sick to lie 
upon, but the bare floors or pavements. 

''In this situation that contagious distemper soon 
communicated from the sick to the well, who would 
probably have remained so, had they not in this man- 
ner been thrust in together without regard to sick 
or well, or to the sultry, unwholesome season, it be- 
ing then the heat of summer. Of this distemper 
numbers died daily, and many others by their con- 
finement and the sultry season contracted fevers and 
died of them. During their sickness, with these and 
other diseases, they had no medicines, nothing sooth- 
ing or comfortable for sick people, and were not so 
much as visited by the physician for months together. 

"Nor ought we to omit the insults which the hu- 
mane Britons offered to our people, nor the artifices 
which they used to enlist them in their service to fight 
against their country. It seems that one end of their 
starving our people was to bring them, by dint of neces- 
sity, to turn rebels to their own country, their own 
consciences, and their God. For while thus famishing 
they would come and say to them: 'This is the just 
punishment of your rebellion. Nay, you are treated 
too well for rebels; you have not received half you 
deserve or half you shall receive. But if you will en- 
list into his Majesty's service, you shall have victuals 
and clothes enough.' 

"As to insults, the British officers, besides contin- 
ually cursing and swearing at them as rebels, often 



196 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

threatened to hang them all; and, on a particular 
time, ordered a number, each man to choose his hal- 
ter out of a parcel offered, wherewith to be hanged ; 
and even went so far as to cause a gallows to be 
erected before the prison, as if they were to be imme- 
diately executed. 

"They further threatened to send them all into the 
East Indies, and sell them there for slaves. 

"In these and numberless other ways did the Brit- 
ish officers seem to rack their inventions to insult, ter- 
rify, and vex the poor prisoners. The meanest, up- 
start officers among them would insult and abuse our 
colonels and chief officers. 

"In this situation, without clothes, without victuals 
or drink, or even water, or with those which were 
base and unwholesome ; without fire, a number of 
them sick, first with a contagious and nauseous dis- 
temper; these, with others, crowded by hundreds into 
close confinement, at the most unwholesome season 
of the year, and continued there for four months 
without blankets, bedding, or strav,^; without linen to 
shift or clothes to cover their bodies ; — No wonder 
they all became sickly, and having at the same time no 
medicine, no help of physicians, nothing to refresh or 
support nature, died by scores in a night, and those 
who were so far gone as to be unable to help them- 
selves lay uncared for, till death, more kind than 
Britons, put an end to their misery. 

"By these means, and in this way, 1,500 brave 
Americans, who had nobly gone forth in defence of 
their injured, oppressed country, but whom the chance 
of war had cast into the hands of our enemies, died 
in New York, many of whom were very amiable, 
promising youths, of good families, the very flower 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 197 

of our land; and of those who lived to come out of 
prison, the greater part, as far as I can learn, are 
dead or dying. Their constitutions are broken; the 
stamina of nature worn out; they cannot recover — 
they die. Even the few that might have survived are 
dying of the smallpox. For it seems that our ene- 
mies determining that even these, whom a good con- 
stitution and a kind Providence had carried through 
unexampled sufferings, should not at last escape 
death, just before their release from imprisonment 
infected them with that fatal distemper. 

"To these circumstances we subjoin the manner in 
which they buried those of our people who died. They 
dragged them out of the prison by one leg or one arm, 
piled them up without doors, there let them lie until 
a sufficient number were dead to make a cart load, 
then loaded them up in a cart, drove the cart thus 
loaded out to the ditches made by our people when 
fortifying New York; there they would tip the cart, 
tumble the corpses together into the ditch, and after- 
wards slightly cover them with earth. * * * 
While our poor prisoners have been thus treated by 
our foes, the prisoners we have taken have enjoyed 
the liberty of walking and riding about within large 
limits at their pleasure; have been freely supplied 
with every necessary, and have even lived on the fat 
of the land. None have been so well fed, so plump, 
and so merry as they; and this generous treatment, 
it is said, they could not but remember. For when 
they were returned in the exchange of prisoners, and 
saw the miserable, famished, dying state of our pris- 
oners, conscious of the treatment they had received, 
they could not refrain from tears." Connecticut Jour- 
ml, Jan. 30th, 1777. 



198 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

In April of the year 1777 a committee that was ap- 
pointed by Congress to inquire into the doings of the 
British on their different marches through New York 
and New Jersey reported that "The prisoners, in- 
stead of that humane treatment which those taken 
by the United States experienced, were in general 
treated with the greatest barbarity. Many of them 
were kept near four days without food altogether. 
* * * Freemen and men of substance suffered all 
that generous minds could suffer from the contempt 
and mockery of British and foreign mercenaries. 
Multitudes died in prison. When they were sent out 
several died in being carried from the boats on shore, 
or upon the' road attempting to go home. The com- 
mittee, in the course of their inquiry, learned that 
sometimes the common soldiers expressed sympathy 
with the prisoners, and the foreigners (did this) more 
than the English. But this was seldom or never the 
case with the officers, nor have they been able to hear 
of any charitable assistance given them by the inhabit- 
ants who remained in, or resorted to the city of New 
York, which neglect, if universal, they believe was 
never known to happen in any similar case in a Chris- 
tian country," 

We have already shown that some of the citizens 
of New York, even a number of the profligate women 
of the town, did their best to relieve the wants of the 
perishing prisoners. But the guards were very strict, 
and what they could do was inadequate to remove 
the distresses under which these victims of cruelty 
and oppression died. As we are attempting to make 
this work a compendium of all the facts that can be 
gathered upon the subject, we must beg the reader's' 
indulgence if we continue to give corroborating tes-. 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 199 

timony of the same character, from the periodicals 
of the day. We will next quote from the New 
Hampshire Gazette, date of February 4th, 1779: 

*'It is painful to repeat the indubitable accounts we 
are constantly receiving, of the cruel and inhuman 
treatment of the subjects of these States from the 
British in New York and other places. They who 
hear our countrymen who have been so unfortunate as 
to fall into the hands of those unrelenting tyrants, re- 
late the sad story of their captivity, the insults they 
have received, and the slow, cool, systematic manner 
in which great numbers of those who could not be 
prevailed on to enter their service have been mur- 
dered, must have hearts of stone not to melt with pity 
for the sufferers, and burn with indignation at their 
tormentors. As we have daily fresh instances to 
prove the truth of such a representation, public jus- 
tice requires that repeated public mention should be 
made of them. A cartel vessel lately arrived at New 
London in Connecticut, carrying about 130 American 
prisoners from the prison ships in New York. Such 
was the condition in which these poor creatures were 
put on board the cartel, that in the short run, 16 
died on board ; upwards of sixty when they were 
landed, were scarcely able to move, and the remainder 
greatly emaciated and enfeebled; and many who con- 
tinue alive are never Hkely to recover their former 
health. * The greatest inhumanity was experienced 
by the prisoners in a ship of which one Nelson, a 
Scotchman, had the superintendence. Upwards of 
300 American prisoners were confined at a time, on 
board this ship. There was but one small fire-place 
allowed to cook the food of such a number. The al- 
lowance of the prisoners was, moreover, frequently 



200 American Prisoners of the R.evolution 

delayed, insomuch that, in the short days of Novem- 
ber and December, it was not begun to be deHvered 
out until 11 o'clock in the forenoon so that the whole 
could not be served until three. At sunset the fire 
was ordered to be quenched; no plea from the many 
sick, froni their absolute necessity, the shortness of 
the time or the smallness of the hearth, was allowed 
to avail. The known consequence was that some had 
not their food dressed at all; many were obliged to 
eat it half raw. On board the ship no flour, oatmeal, 
and things of like nature, suited to the condition of 
infirm people, were allowed to the many sick, nothing 
but ship-bread, beef, and pork. This is the account 
given by a number of prisoners, who are credible per- 
sons, and this is but a part of their sufferings ; so that 
the excuse made by the enemy that the prisoners were 
emaciated and died by contagious sickness, which no 
one could prevent, is futile. It requires no great sa- 
gacity to know that crowding people together with- 
out fresh air, and feeding, or rather starving them in 
such a manner as the prisoners have been, must un- 
avoidably produce a contagion. Nor is it a want of 
candor to suppose that many of our enemies saw with 
pleasure this contagion, which might have been so 
easily prevented, among the prisoners who could not 
be persuaded to enter the service." 

the case of captain BIRDSALIv 

Soon after the battle of Long Island Captain 
Birdsall, a Whig officer, made a successful attempt 
to release an American vessel laden with flour for the 
army, which had been captured in the Sound by the 
Briti*sh. Captain Birdsall offered, if the undertaking 
was approved of by his superior officer, to superin- 



American Prisoners of the Revoi^ution 201 

tend the enterprise himself. The proposal was ac- 
cepted, when Birdsall, with a few picked men, made 
the experiment, and succeeded in sending the vessel 
to her original destination. But he and one of his 
men fell into the hands of the enemy. He was sent 
to the Provost Jail under surveillance of ''that mon- 
ster in human shape, the infamous Cunningham." He 
requested the use of pen, ink, and paper, for the pur- 
pose of acquainting his family of his situation. On 
being refused he made a reply which drew from the 
keeper some opprobious epithets, accompanied by a 
thrust from his sword, which penetrated the shoulder 
of his victim, and caused the blood to flow freely. 
Being locked up alone in a filthy apartment, and de- 
nied any assistance whatever, he was obliged to dress 
the wound with his own linen, and then to endure, 
in solitude and misery, every indignity which the mal- 
ice of the Provost Master urged him to inflict upon 
a damned rebel, who, he declared, ought to be hung. 
''After several months of confinement and starvation 
he was exchanged." 

Two Whig gentlemen of Long Island were impris- 
oned in the Provost Prison some time in the year 
1777. Two English Quakers named Jacob Watson 
and Robert Murray at last procured their release. 
Their names were George Townsend and John KirR. 
Kirk caught the smallpox while in prison. He was 
sent home in a covered wagon. His wife met him at 
the door, and tenderly nursed him through the disor- 
der. He recovered in due time, but she and her in- 
fant daughter died of the malady. There were hun- 
dreds of such cases : indeed throughout the war con- 
tagion was carried into every part of the country by 
soldiers and former prisoners. In some instances the 
British were accused of selling inoculated clothing 



202 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

to the prisoners. Let us hope that some, at least, of 
these reports are unfounded. 

The North Dutch Church was the last of the 
churches used as prisons to be torn down. As late as 
1850 it was still standing, and marks of bayonet 
thrusts were plainly to be discerned upon its pillars. 
How many of the wretched sufferers were in this 
manner done to death we have no means of discover- 
ing, but it must have been easier to die in that manner 
than to have endured the protracted agonies of death 
by starvation. 

John Pintard, who assisted his uncle, Lewis Pin- 
tard, Commissioner for American prisoners in New 
York, thus wrote of their sufferings. It must be re- 
membered that the prisoners taken in 1776 died, for 
the most part, before our struggling nation w^as able 
to protect them, before Commissioners had been ap- 
pointed, and when, in her feeble infancy, the Repub- 
lic was powerless to aid them. 

"The prisoners taken on Long Island and at Fort 
Washington, sick, wounded, and well, were all indis- 
criminately huddled together, by hundreds and thou- 
sands, large numbers of whom died by disease, and 
many undoubtedly poisoned 'by inhuman attendants, 
for the sake of their watches or silver buckles." 

It was on the 20th of January, 1777, that Wash- 
ington proposed to Mr. Lewis Pintard, a merchant of 
New York, that he should accept the position as res- 
ident agent for American prisoners. In May of that 
year General Parsons sent to Washington a plan for 
making a raid upon Long Island, and bringing off the 
American officers, prisoners of war on parole. Wash- 
ington, however, disapproved of the plan, and it was 
not executed. 

No one sympathized with the unfortunate victims 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 203 

of British cruelty more deeply than the Commander- 
in-chief. But he keenly felt the injustice of exchang- 
ing sound, healthy, British soldiers, for starved and 
dying wretches, for the most part unable even to 
reach their homes. In a letter written by him on the 
28th of May, 1777, to General Howe, he declared that 
a great proportion of prisoners sent out by the Brit- 
ish were not fit subjects for exchange, and that, being 
made so unfit by the severity of their treatment, a de- 
duction should be made. It is needless to say that the 
British General refused this proposition. 

On the 10th of June, 1777, Washington, in a 
long letter to General Howe, states that he gave 
clothing to the British prisoners in his care. He also 
declares that he was not informed of the sufferings 
of the Americans in New York until too late, and that 
he was refused permission to establish an agency in 
that city to purchase what was necessary to supply the 
wants of the prisoners. 

It was not until after the battle of Trenton that any- 
thing could be done to relieve these poor men. Wash- 
ington, by his heroism, when he led his little band 
across the half frozen Delaware, saved the lives of the 
small remnant of prisoners in New York. After the 
battle he had so many British and Hessian prisoners 
in his power, that he was able to impress upon the 
British general the fact that American prisoners were 
too valuable to be murdered outright, and that it was 
more expedient to keep them alive for purposes of ex- 
change. 

Rivington's Gazette of Jan. 15th, 1779, contains this 
notice : "Privateers arriving in New York Harbor are 
to put their prisoners on board the Good Hope or 
Prince of Wales prisOn ships. 

"James Dick," 



204 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

If the Jersey were in use at that time it must have 
been too crowded for further occupancy. But al- 
though there is frequent mention in the periodicals of 
the day of the prison ships of New York the Jersey 
did not become notorious until later. 

On the 29th of June, 1779, Sir George ColHer, in a 
notice in Rivington's Gazette, forbids "privateers land- 
ing prisoners on Long Island to the damage and an- 
noyance of His Majesty's faithful servants." 

This order was no doubt issued, in fear of conta- 
gion, which fear led the British to remove their prison 
ships out of New York Harbor to the retired waters 
of Wallabout Bay, where the work of destruction 
could go on with less fear of producing a general pesti- 
lence. 

In the issue for the 23rd of August, 1779, we read : 
"To be sold, The sails and rigging of the ship Good 
Hope. Masts, spars, and yards as good as new." 

Among the accounts of cruelty to the prisoners it 
is refreshing to come upon such a paragraph as this, 
from a New London, Conn, paper, dated August 18th, 
1779. "Last week five or six hundred American pris- 
oners were exchanged. A flag returned here with 47 
American prisoners, and though taken out of the Good 
Hope prison ship, it must (for once) be acknowledged 
that all were very well and healthy. Only 150 left." 

The next quotation that we will give contains one of 
the first mentions of the Jersey as a prison ship, that 
we have been able to find. 

"New London, Sept. 1st, 1779. D. Stanton testi- 
fies that he was taken June 5th and put in the Jersey 
prison ship. An allowance from Congress was sent 
on board. About three or four weeks past we were 
removed on board the Good Hope, where we found 



American Prisoners of the RevoIvUtion 205 

many sick. There is now a hospital ship provided, to 
which they are removed, and good attention paid." 

A Boston paper dated September 2nd, 1779, has the 
following: "Returned to this port Alexander Dickey, 
Commissary of Prisoners, from New York, with a 
cartel, having on board 180 American prisoners. Their 
countenances indicate that they have undergone every 
conceivable inhumanity." 

"New London, Sep. 29th 1779. A Flag arrived 
here from New York with 117 prisoners, chiefly from 
New England." 

From Rivington's Gazette, Alarch 1st, 1780. Last 
Saturday afternoon the Good Hope prison ship, lying 
in the Wallebocht Bay was entirely consumed after 
having been wilfully set on fire by a Connecticut man 
named Woodbury, who confessed to the fact. He 
with others of the incendiaries are removed to the 
Provost. The prisoners let each other down from the 
port holes and decks into the water." 

So that was the end of the Good Hope. She seems 
to have been burned by some of the prisoners in utter 
desperation, probably with some hope that, in the con- 
fusion, they might be enabled to escape, though we do 
not learn that any of them were so fortunate, and the 
only consequence of the deed appears to have been 
that the remaining ships were crowded to suffocation. 

A writer in the Connecticut Gazette, whose name is 
not given, says : "May 25th, 1780. I am now a pris- 
oner on board the Falmouth, a place the most dreadful ; 
we are confined so that we have not room even to He 
down all at once to sleep. It is the most horrible, 
cursed, hole that can be thought of. I was sick and 
longed for some small beer, while I lay unpitied at 
death's door, with a putrid fever, and though I had 



206 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

money I was not permitted to send for it. I offered 
repeatedly a hard dollar for a pint. The wretch who 
went forward and backward would not oblige me. I 
am just able to creep about. Four prisoners have es- 
caped from this ship. One having, as by accident, 
thrown his hat overboard, begged leave to go after it 
in a small boat, which lay alongside. Having reached 
the hat they secured the sentinel and made for the 
Jersey shore, though several armed boats pursued, and 
shot was fired from the shipping." 

The New Jersey Gazette of June 4th, 1780, says: 
"Thirty-five Americans, including five officers, made 
their escape from the prison ship at New York and 
got safely off." 

"For Sale. The remains of the hospital ship Kitty, 
as they now lie at the Wallebocht, with launch, an- 
chors, and cables." Gaine's Mercury, July 1st, 1780. 

New Jersey Gazette, August 23, 1780. "Captain 
Grumet, who made his escape from the Scorpion 
prison ship, at New York, on the evening of the 15th, 
says more lenity is shown the prisoners. There are 
200 in the Strombolo, and 120 in the Scorpion." 

It was in 1780 that the poet Freneau was a prisoner 
on the Scorpion, which, at that time, was anchored 
in the East River. In Rivington's Gazette, at the end 
of that year, the "hulks of his Majesty's sloops Scor- 
pion and Hunter" are advertised for sale. Also "the 
Strombolo fire-ship, now lying in North River." It 
appears, however, that there were no purchasers, and 
they remained unsold. They were still in use until 
the end of the year 1781. Gaine's Mercury declares 
that "the Strombolo, from August 21st to December 
10th, 1781, had never less than 150 prisoners on 
board, oftener over 200." 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 207 

"Captain Cahoon with four others escaped from a 
prison ship to Long Island in a boat, March 8, not- 
withstanding they were fired on from the prison and 
hospital ships, and pursued by guard boats from 
three in the afternoon to seven in the evening. He 
left 200 prisoners in New York." Connecticut Jour- 
fuil, March 22, 1781. 

The Connecticut G^^ette, in May, 1781, stated that 
1100 French and American prisoners had died dur- 
ing the winter in the prison ships. "New London. 
November 17th, 1781. A Flag of truce returned 
here from New York with 132 prisoners, with the 
rest of those carried off by Arnold. They are chiefly 
from the prison ships, and some from the Sugar 
House, and are mostly sick." 

"New London, Jan. 4th, 1782. 130 prisoners landed 
here from New York December third, in most deplor- 
able condition. A great part are since dead, and the 
survivors so debilitated that they will drag out a mis- 
erable existence. It is enough to melt the most ob- 
durate heart to see these miserable objects landed at 
our wharves sick and dying, and the few rags they 
have on covered with vermin and their own excre- 
ments." 



CHAPTER XXII 

The Journal of Dr. Euas Cornelius — British 
Prisons in the South 

WE MUST now conduct our readers back to the 
Provost Prison in New York, where, for 
some time. Colonel Ethan Allen was incarcerated. Dr. 
EHas Cornelius, a surgeon's mate, was taken prisoner 
by the British on the 22nd of August, 1777. On that 
day he had ridden to the enemy's advanced post to 
make observations, voluntarily accompanying a scout- 
ing party. On his way back he was surprised, over- 
powered, and captured by a party of British soldiers. 
This was at East Chester. He seems to have 
lagged behind the rest of the party, and thus describes 
the occurrence: "On riding into town (East Ches- 
ter) four men started from behind a shed and took me 
prisoner. They immediately began robbing me of 
everything I had, horse and harness, pistols, Great 
Coat, shoe-buckles, pocket book, which contained 
over thirty pounds, and other things. The leader of 
the guard abused me very much. * * * When 
we arrived at King's Bridge I was put under the 
Provost Guard, with a man named Prichard and sev- 
eral other prisoners." They were kept at the guard 
house there for some time, and regaled with mouldy 
bread, rum and water, and sour apples, which were 
thrown down for them to scramble for, as if they 
were so many pigs. They were at last marched to 
New York. Just before reaching that city they were 
carried before a Plessian general to be "made a show 
of." The Hessians mocked them, told them they 
were all to be hung, and even went so far as to draw 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 209 

their swords across their throats. But a Hessian sur- 
geon's mate took pity on CorneHus, and gave him a 
glass of wine. 

On the march to New York in the hot summer af- 
ternoon they were not allowed to stop even for a 
drink of water. Cornelius was in a fainting condition, 
when a poor woman, compassionating his sad plight, 
asked to be allowed to give them some water. They 
were then about four miles from New York. She 
ran into her house and brought out several pails of 
beer, three or four loaves of bread, two or three 
pounds of cheese, and besides all this, she gave money 
to some of the prisoners. Her name was Mrs. de- 
mons. She was from Boston and kept a small store 
along the road to New York. 

Cornelius says : "We marched till we come to the 
Bowery, three quarters of a mile from New York. 

* * * As we come into town, Hessians, Negroes, 
and children insulted, stoned, and abused us. 

* * "^ In this way we were led through half the 
streets as a show. * * * At last we were ordered 
to the Sugar House, which formerly went by the 
name of Livingstone's Sugar House. Here one Wal- 
ley, a Sergeant of the 20th Regiment of Irish traitors 
in the British service, had the charge of the prisoners. 
This man was the most barbarous, cruel man that 
ever I saw. He drove us into the yard like so many 
hogs. From there he ordered us into the Sugar 
House, which was the dirtiest and most disagreeable 
place that I ever saw, and the water in the pump was 
not better than that in the docks. The top of the 
house was open * * * ^-q ^\^q weather, so that 
when it rained the water ran through every floor, and 
it was impossible for us to keep dry. Mr. Walley 

—14 



210 American Prisoners of the Revoi^ution 

gave thirteen of us four pounds of mouldy bread 
and four pounds of poor Irish pork for four days. I 
asked Mr Walley if I was not to have my parole. He 
answered *No!' When I asked for pen and ink to 
write a few lines to my father, he struck me across 
the face with a staff which I have seen him beat the 
prisoners." (with). 

On the next morning CorneUus was conveyed to 
the Provost Guard. "I was then taken down to a 
Dungeon. The provost marshal was Sergeant Keith" 
(Cunningham appears to have been, at this time, mur- 
dering the unfortunate prisoners in his power at Phil- 
adelphia). 

"There was in this place a Captain Travis of Vir- 
ginia, and Captain of a sloop of war. There were 
also in this dismal place nine thieves, murderers, etc. 
A Captain Chatham was taken sick with nervous 
fever. I requested the Sergeant to suffer me to 
send for some medicine, or I beheved he might die, to 
which he replied he might die, and if he did he 
w^ould bury him. 

"All the provisions each man had was but two 
pounds meat and two pounds bread for a week, al- 
ways one and sometimes both was not fit to eat. 
* * * I had no change of linen from the 25th of 
August to the 12th of September," 

It seems that the father of Cornelius, who lived on 
Long Island, was an ardent Tory. Cornelius asked 
Sergeant O'Keefe to be allowed to send to his father 
for money and clothing. But this was refused. "In 
this hideous place," he continues, "I was kept until 
the 20th of September; when Sergeant Keath took 
Captains C, and Travis, and myself, and led us to the 
tipper part of the prison, where were Ethan Allen, 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 211 

Major Williams, Paine and Wells and others. Ma- 
jor Williams belonged at Maryland and was taken 
prisoner at Fort Washington. * * * 

"While at this place we were not allowed to speak 
to any friend, not even out of the window. I have 
frequently seen women beaten with canes and ram- 
rods who have come to the prisons' windows to 
speak to their Husbands, Sons, or Brothers, and of- 
ficers put in the dungeon just for asking for cold wa- 
ter." 

Dried peas were given out to the prisoners, with- 
out the means of cooking them. 

When Fort Montgomery was taken by the British 
the American officers who had been in command at 
that post were brought to the Provost and put into 
two small rooms on the lower floor. Some of them 
were badly wounded, but no surgeon was allowed to 
dress their wounds. Cornelius asked permission to 
do so, but this was refused. ''AH of us in the upper 
prison," he continues, "were sometimes allowed to go 
on top of the house. I took this opportunity to throw 
some Ointment and Lint down the chimney to the 
wounded in the lower rooms with directions how to 
use it. I knew only one of them — Lt. Col. Living- 
stone." 

At the time of Burgoyne's surrender a rumor of 
the event reached the prisoners, and women passing 
along the street made signs to assure them that that 
general was really a captive. Colonel Livingstone 
received a letter from his father giving an account of 
Burgoyne's surrender. "Soon we heard hollooing and 
other expressions of joy from him and others in the 
(lower) rooms. * * * He put the letter up 
through a crack in the floor for us to read. * * * 



212 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

The whole prison was filled with joy inexpressible. 

* * * From this time we were better treated, al- 
though the provision was bad, but we drew rather 
larger quantities of it. Some butter, and about a gill 
of rice and some cole were dealt out to us, which we 
never drew before. 

"About this time my father came to see me. I was 
called down to the grates. My heart at first was 
troubled within me; I burst into tears, and did not 
speak for some minutes. I put my hand through the 
grates, and took my father's and held it fast. The 
poor old gentleman shed many tears, and seemed 
much troubled to see me in so woeful a place. 

* * * He asked me what I thought of myself now, 
and why I could not have been ruled by him. * * * 
Soon the Provost Marshal came and said he could not 
allow my father to stay longer. 

"* * "^ Toward the latter part of December we 
had Continental bread and beef sent us, and as much 
wood as we wished to burn. A friend gave me some 
money which was very useful. 

"Jan. 9th, 1778. This day Mr. Walley came and 
took from the prison myself and six others under 
guard to the Sugar House. * * * At this time 
my health was bad, being troubled with the scurvy, 
and my prospects for the winter were dark." 

He describes the Sugar House as a dreadful place 
of torment, and says that thirty disorderly men were 
allowed to steal from the other prisoners the few com- 
forts they possessed. They would even take the sick 
out of their beds, steal their bedding, and beat and 
kick the wretched sufferers. The articles thus pro- 
cured they would sell to Mr. Walley (or Woolley) 
for rum. 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 213 

On the 13th of January CorneHus was sent to the 
hospital. The Brick Meeting House was used for the 
sick among the prisoners. 

"Here," he continues, ''I stayed until the 16th. I 
was not much better than I was in the Sugar House, 
no medicine was given me, though I had a cough and 
a fever. The Surgeon wished me as soon as I got 
better to take the care of the sick, provided I could 
get my parole. 

"Jan. 16th. On coming next morning he (the sur- 
geon) said he could get my parole. I was now deter- 
mined to make my escape, though hardly able to 
undertake it. Just at dusk, having made the Sentinel 
intoxicated, I with others, went out into the back- 
yard to endeavor to escape over the fence. The 
others being backward about going first, I climbed 
upon a tombstone and gave a spring, and went over 
safe, and then gave orders for the others to do so 
also. A little Irish lad undertook to leap over, and 
caught his clothes in the spikes on the wall, and 
made something of a noise. The sentinel being 
aroused called out 'Rouse !' which is the same as to 
command the guards to turn out. They were soon 
out and surrounded the prison. In the mean time 
I had made my way to St. Paul's Church, which was 
the wrong way to get out of town. 

"The guards, expecting that I had gone towards 
North River, went in that direction. On arriving at 
the Church I turned into the street to go by the Col- 
lege and thus go out of town by the side of the river. 
Soon after I was out of town I heard the eight o'clock 
gun, which * * * was the signal for the sen- 
tinels to hail every man that came by. I wished 
much to cross the river, but could not find any boat 



214 American Prisoners of the Revoi^ution 

suitable. While going along up the side of the river 
at 9 P. M., I was challenged by a sentinel with the 
usual word (Burdon), upon which I answered noth- 
ing, and on being challenged the second time I 
answered 'Friend.' He bade me advance and give 
the countersign, upon which I fancied (pretended) I 
was drunk, and advanced in a staggering manner, and 
after falling to the ground he asked me where I 
was going. I told him 'Home,' but that I had got 
lost, and having been to New York had taken rather 
too much liquor, and become somewhat intoxicated. 
He then asked me my name which I told him was 
Matthew Hoppen. Mr. Hoppen lived not far distant. 
I solicited him to put me in the right direction, but 
he told me I must not go until the Sergeant of the 
guard dismissed me from him, unless I could give 
him the countersign. I still entreated him to let me 
go. Soon he consented and directed my course, which 
I thanked him for. Soon the moon arose and made 
it very light, and there being snow on the ground, 
crusted over, and no wind, therefore a person walk- 
ing could be heard a great distance. 

"At this time the tumor in my lungs broke, and 
being afraid to cough for fear of being heard, pre- 
vented me from reHeving myself of the pus that was 
lodged there. 

"I had now to cross lots that were cleared and cov- 
ered with snow, the houses being thick on the road 
which I was to cross, and for fear of being heard I 
lay myself flat on my stomach and crept along on the 
frozen snow. When I come to the fence I climbed 
over, and walked down the road, near a house where 
there was music and dancing. At this time one of " 
the guards came out. I immediately fell down upon 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 215 

my face. Soon the man went into the house. I rose 
again, and crossed the fence into the field, and pro- 
ceeded towards the river. There being no trees or 
rocks to prevent my being seen, and not being able 
to walk without being heard, and the dogs beginning 
to bark, I lay myself down flat again, and crept across 
the fields which took me half an hour. I at length 
reached the river and walked by the side of it some 
distance, and saw a small creek which ran up intO' 
the island, and by the side of it a small house, and two* 
Sentinels one on each side of it. Not knowing what 
to do I crept into a hole in the bank which led in be- 
tween two rocks. Here I heard them talk. I con- 
cluded to endeavor to go around the head of the 
creek, which was about half a mile, but on getting out 
of the hole I took hold of the limb of a tree which gave 
way, and made a great noise. The sentinel, on hear- 
ing it said, 'Did you not hear a person on the creek?' 
"1 waited some minutes and then went around the 
head of the creek and came down the river on the 
other side to see if I could not find a boat to cross, 
to Long Island. But on finding sentinels near by I 
retreated a short distance back, and went up the river„ 
I had not gone more than thirty rods when I saw an- 
other sentinel posted on the bank of the river where 
I must pass. * * * j stood some time thinking 
what course to pursue, but on looking at the man 
found he did not move and was leaning on his gun. 
I succeeded in passing by without waking him up. 
After this I found a Sentinel every fifteen or twenty 
rods until I came within two miles of Hell Gate. Here 
I stayed until my feet began to freeze, and having 
nothing to eat I went a mile further up the river. 
It now being late I crept into the bushes and lay 



216 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

down to think what to do next. I concluded to re- 
main where I was during the night, and early in the 
morning to go down to New York and endeavor 
to find some house to conceal myself in. 

''In the morning as soon as the Revelry Beating 
commenced I went on my way to New York which 
was eight miles from this place. After proceeding 
awhile I heard the morning guns fired from New 
York, though I was four miles from it. I passed the 
sentinels unmolested down the middle of the road, 
and arrived there before many were up. I met many 
British and Hessian soldiers whom I knew very well, 
but they did not know me. 

"I went to a house, and found them friends of 
America, and was kindly received of them, and (they) 
promised to keep me a few days. 

''I had not been here but three quarters of an hour 
when I was obliged to call for a bed. After being 
in bed two or three hours I was taken with a stoppage 
in my breast, and made my resperation difficult, and 
still being afraid to cough loud for fear of being 
heard. The good lady of the house gave me some 
medicine of my own prescribing, which soon gave me 
relief. Soon after a rumor spread about town among 
the friends of America of my confinement, and ex- 
pecting soon to be retaken, they took measures to have 
me conveyed to Long Island, which was accordingly 
done. 

"Feb. 18th, 1778. The same day I was landed I 
walked nine miles, and put up at a friend's house, 
during my walk I passed my Grandfather's house, 
and dare not go in for fear he would deliver me up 
to the British. Next morning I started on my journey 
again, and reached the place I intended at 12 o'clock, 



American Prisoners of tpie Revolution 217 

and put up with two friends. The next morning I 
and two companions started from our friends with 
four days provisions, and shovels and axes to build 
us a hut in the woods. We each of us had a musket, 
powder, and balls. After going two miles in the 
woods we dug away the snow and made us a fire. 
After warming ourselves we set to work to build our- 
selves a hut ; and got one side of it done the first day, 
and the next we finished it. It was tolerably com- 
fortable. We kept large fires, and cooked our meat 
on the coals. In eight or ten days we had some pro- 
visions brought us by our friends. At this time we 
heard that Captain Rogers was cast away on Long 
Island, and concealed by some of his friends. We 
went to see him, and found him. We attempted to 
stay in the house in a back room. At about ten A. 
M. there came in a Tory, he knowing some of us 
seemed much troubled. We made him promise that 
he would not make known our escape. The next day 
our two comrades went back to their old quarters, 
and Captain Rogers and myself and a friend went 
into the woods and built us a hut, about ten miles 
from my former companions, with whom we kept up 
a constant correspondence. Soon a man was brought 
to us by our friends, whom we found to be John 
Rolston, a man who was confined in the Provost Jail 
with us, and was carried to the Hospital about three 
weeks after I was, and made his escape the same way, 
and by friends was brought to Long Island. 

"March 19th, 1778. About 5 o'clock a friend came 
to us and and said we had an opportunity to go over 
to New England in a boat that had just landed with 
four Tories, that had stolen the boat at Fairfield, 
Conn. We immediately sent word to our two friends 

U 



218 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

with whom I first helped to build a hut, but they 
could not be found. At sunset those that came in the 
boat went off, and some of our friends guided us 
through the woods to the boat, taking two oars with 
us, for fear we should not find any in the boat. On 
arrival at the place our kind friends helped us off. 
We rowed very fast till we were a great distance from 
land. The moon rose soon, and the wind being fair 
we arrived we knew not where, about a half hour 
before day. We went on shore, and soon found it 
was Norwalk, Conn. We had bade farewell to Long 
Island, for the present, upon which I composed the 
following lines: — 

"O fair you well, once happy land, 

Where peace and plenty dwelt, 

But now oppressed by tyrants' hands, 

Where naught but fury's felt. 

"Behold I leave you for awhile, 
To mourn for all your sons; 
Who daily bleed that you may smile 
When we've your freedom won. 

"After being rested, just as the day began to dawn, 
we walked to a place called the Old Mill, where we 
found a guard (American) who hailed us at a dis- 
tance, and on coming up to him kindly received us, 
and invited us to his house to warm us. This being 
done we went home with Captain Rodgers, for he 
lived in Norwalk. Here we went to bed at sunrise, 
and stayed till 10 o'clock. After dinner we took leave 
of Captain Rodgers and started for head-quarters in 
Pennsylvania, where the grand Army was at that 
time. In seven days we arrived at Valley Forge. 

"EHas Cornelius." 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 219 

This portion of the journal of Dr. Cornehus was pub- 
Hshed in the Putnam County Republican, in 1895, 
with a short account of the author. 

Dr. Cornehus was born on Long Island in 1758, 
and was just twenty at the time of his capture. His 
ancestors came from Holland. They were of good 
birth, and brought a seal bearing their coat of arms 
to this country. On the 15th of April, 1777, he was 
appointed surgeon's mate to the Second Regiment of 
Rhode Island troops under Colonel Israel Angell. 

The article in the Republican gives a description of 
Cunningham and the Provost which we do not quote in 
full, as it contains little that is new. It says, however 
that "While Cunningham's victims were dying off 
from cold and starvation like cattle, he is said to have 
actually mingled an arsenical preparation with the 
food to make them die the quicker. It is recorded 
that he boasted that he had killed more rebels with 
his own hand than had been slain by all the King's 
forces in America." 

Cornelius continued in the Continental service until 
January 1st, 1781, and received an honorable dis- 
charge. After the war he settled at Yorktown, West- 
chester County, and came to be known as the "be- 
loved physician." He was very gentle and kind, and 
a great Presbyterian. He died in 1823, and left de- 
scendants, one of whom is Judge C. M. Tompkins, of 
Washington, D. C. 

As we have seen, Cunningham was not always in 
charge of the Provost. It appears that, during his 
absence in Philadelphia and other places, where he 
spread death and destruction, he left Sergeant 
O'Keefe, almost as great a villian as himself, in 
charge of the hapless prisoners in New York. It is 



220 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

to be hoped that his boast that he had killed more 
Americans than all the King's forces is an exagger- 
ation. It may, however, be true that in the years 
1776 and 1777 he destroyed more American soldiers 
than had, at that time, fallen on the field of battle. 

When an .old building that had been used as a 
prison near the City Hall v^as torn down a few years' 
ago to make way for the Subway Station of the 
Brooklyn Bridge, a great number of skeletons were 
found in its cellars. That these men starved to death 
or came to their end by violence cannot be doubted. 
New York, at the tim^ of the Revolution, extended 
to about three-quarters of a mile from the Battery, 
its suburbs lying around what is now Fulton Street. 
Cornelius speaks of the Bowery as about three- 
quarters of a mile from New York! "St. Paul's 
Church," says Mr. Haltigan, in his very readable book 
called "The Irish in the American Revolution," 
"where Washington attended divine service, is now 
the only building standing that existed in those days, 
and that is a veritable monument to Irish and Ameri- 
can patriotism. * * * On the Boston Post Road, 
where it crossed a brook in the vicinity of Fifty- 
Second street and Second avenue, then called Beek- 
man's Hill, WiUiam Beekman had an extensive 
country house. During the Revolution this house 
was the British headquarters, and residence of Sir 
WilHam Howe, where Nathan Hale was condemned 
to death, and where Major Andre received his last 
instructions before going on his ill-fated mission to 
the traitor Arnold." 

Lossing tells us of the imprisonment of one of 
the signers of the Declaration of Independence, in 
the following language : "Suffering and woe held 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 221 

terrible sway after Cornwallis and his army swept 
over the plains of New Jersey. Like others of the 
signers of the great Declaration, Richard Stockton 
was marked for peculiar vengeance by the enemy. So 
suddenly did the flying Americans pass by in the 
autumn of 1776, and so soon were the Hessian vul- 
tures and their British companions on the trail, that 
he had barely time to remove his family to a place of 
safety before his beautiful mansion was filled with 
rude soldiery. The house was pillaged, the horses 
and stock were driven away, the furniture was con- 
verted into fuel, the choice old wines in the cellar 
were drunk, the valuable library, and all the papers 
of Mr. Stockton were committed to the flames, and 
the estate was laid waste. Mr. Stockton's place of 
concealment was discovered by a party of loyaHsts, 
who entered the house at night, dragged him from 
his bed, and treating him with every indignity that 
malice could invent, hurried him to New York, where 
he was confined in the loathsome Provost Jail and 
treated with the utmost cruelty. When, through the 
interposition of Congress he was released, his con- 
stitution was hopelessly shattered, and he did not live 
to see the independence of his country achieved. He 
died at his home at Princeton, in February, 1781, 
blessed to the last with the tender and affectionate 
attentions of his noble wife." 

We have gathered very little information about the 
British prisons in the south, but that little shall be 
laid before the reader. It repeats the same sad story 
of suffering and death of hundreds of martyrs to the 
cause of liberty, and of terrible cruelty on the part 
of the EngHsh as long as they were victorious. 

Mr. Haltigan tells of the ''tender mercies" of Corn- 



222 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

wallis at the south in the following words : "Corn- 
wallis was even more cruel than Clinton, and more 
flagrant in his violations of the conditions of capitu- 
lation. After the fall of Charleston the real misery 
of the inhabitants began. Every stipulation made by 
Sir Henry Clinton for their welfare was not only 
grossly violated, but he sent out expeditions in 
various sections to plunder and kill the inhabitants, 
and scourge the country generally. One of these 
under Tarleton surprised Colonel Buford and his 
Virginia regiment at Waxhaw, N. C, and while 
negotiations were pending for a surrender, the Amer- 
icans, without notice, were suddenly attacked and 
massacred in cold blood. Colonel Buford and one 
hundred of his men saved themselves only by flight. 
Though the rest sued for quarter, one hundred and 
thirteen of them were killed on the spot, and one 
hundred and fifty more were so badly hacked by 
Tarleton's dragoons that they could not be removed. 
Only fifty-three out of the entire regiment were 
spared and taken prisoners. 'Tarleton's quarter' 
thereafter became the synonym for barbarity. 
* * * Feeling the silent influence of the eminent 
citizens under parole in Charleston, Cornwallis re- 
solved to expatriate them to Florida. 

"Lieutenant Governor Gadsden and seventy-seven 
other public and influential men were taken from their 
beds by armed parties, before dawn on the morning 
of the 27th of August, 1780, hurried on board the 
Sandwich prison ship, without being allowed to bid 
adieu to their families, and were conveyed to St. 
Augustine. 

"The pretence for this measure, by which the 
British authorities attempted to justify it, was the 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 223 

false accusation that these men were concerting a 
scheme for burning the town and massacring the loyal 
inhabitants. Nobody believed the tale, and the act 
was made more flagrant by this wicked calumny. Ar- 
rived at St. Augustine the prisoners were offered 
paroles to enjoy liberty within the precincts of the 
town. Gadsden, the sturdy patriot, refused ac- 
quiescence, for he disdained making further terms 
with a power that did not regard the sanctity of a 
solemn treaty. He was determined not to be de- 
ceived the second time. 

" 'Had the British commanders,' he said, 'regarded 
the terms of capitulation at Charleston I might now, 
although a prisoner, enjoy the smiles and consolations 
of my family under my own roof; but even without 
a shadow of accusation preferred against me, for any 
act inconsistent with my plighted faith, I am torn 
from them, and here, in a distant land, invited to 
enter into new engagements. I will give no parole.' 

" 'Think better of it,' said Governor Tonyn, who 
was in command, 'a second refusal of it will fix your 
destiny, — a dungeon will be your future habitation.' 

" 'Prepare it then,' replied the inflexible patriot, 'I 
will give no parole, so help me God!' 

"And the petty tyrant did prepare it, and for forty- 
two weeks that patriot, of almost threescore years of 
age, never saw the light of the blessed sun, but lay 
incarcerated in the dungeon of the castle of St 
Augustine. All the other prisoners accepted paroles, 
but they were exposed to indignities more harrowing 
to the sensitive soul than close confinement. When 
they were exchanged, in June, 1781, they were not al- 
lowed even to touch at Charleston, but were sent to 
Philadelphia, whither their families had been ban- 



224 American Prisoners of the RevoIvUtion 

ished when the prisoners were taken to the Sandwich. 
More than a thousand persons were thus exiled, and 
husbands and wives, fathers and children, first met 
in a distant State after a separation of ten months. 

"Nearly all the soldiers taken prisoners at Charles- 
ton were confined in prison ships in the harbor, where 
foul air, bad food, filth, and disease killed hundreds 
of them. Those confined at Haddrell's Point also 
suffered terribly. Many of them had been nurtured 
in affluence; now far from friends and entirely with- 
out means, they were reduced to the greatest straits. 
They were not even allowed to fish for their support, 
but were obliged to perform the most menial services. 
After thirteen months captivity, Cornwallis ordered 
them to be sent to the West Indies, and this cruel 
order would have been carried out, but for the gen- 
eral exchange of prisoners which took place soon af- 
terwards. 

"Governor Rutledge, in speaking before the South 
Carolina Assembly at Jacksonboro, thus eloquently 
referred to the rigorous and unjustifiable conduct 
of the British authorities : 

" 'Regardless of the sacred ties of honor, destitute 
of the feelings of humanity, and determined to ex- 
tinguish, if possible, every spark of freedom in this 
country, the enemy, with the insolent pride of con- 
querors, gave unbounded scope to the exercise of their 
tyrannical disposition, infringed their public engage- 
ments, and violated their most solemn treaties. Many 
of our worthiest citizens, without cause, were long 
and closely confined, some on board prison ships, and 
others in the town and castle of St. Augustine. Their 
properties were disposed of at the will and caprice 
of the enemy, and their families sent to a different 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 225 

and distant part of the continent without the means 
of support. Many who had surrendered prisoners 
of war were killed in cold blood. Several suffered 
death in the most ignominious manner, and others 
were delivered up to savages and put to tortures, 
under which they expired. Thus the lives, liberties, 
and properties of the people were dependent solely on 
the pleasure of the British officers, who deprived them 
of either or all on the most frivolous pretenses. 
Indians, slaves, and a desperate banditti of the most 
profligate characters were caressed and employed by 
the enemy to execute their infamous purposes. De- 
vastation and ruin marked their progress and that of 
their adherents; nor were their violences restrained 
by the charms or influence of beauty and innocence; 
even the fair sex, whom it is the duty of all, and the 
pleasure and pride of the brave to protect, they and 
their tender offspring, were victims to the inveterate 
malice of an unrelenting foe. Neither the tears of 
mothers, nor the cries of infants could excite pity 
or compassion. Not only the peaceful habitation of 
the widow, the aged and the infirm, but the holy 
temples of the Most High were consumed in flames, 
kindled by their sacrilegious hands. They have 
tarnished the glory of the British army, disgraced the 
profession of a British soldiery, and fixed indelible 
stigmas of rapine, cruelty and perfidy, and pro- 
faneness on the British name.' " 

When in 1808 the Tammany Society of New York 
laid the cornerstone of a vault in which the bones of 
many of the prison ship martyrs were laid Joseph D. 
Fay, Esq., made an oration in which he said: 

''But the suffering of those unfortunate Americans 
whom the dreadful chances of war had destined for 
—IS 



/ 



226 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

the prison-ships, were far greater than any which 
have been told. In that deadly season of the year, 
when the dog-star rages with relentless fury, when 
a pure air is especially necessary to health, the 
British locked their prisoner, after long marches, in 
the dungeons of ships affected with contagion, and 
reeking with the filth of crowded captives, dead and 
dying. * * * jsjo reasoning, no praying could ob- 
tain from his stern tyrants the smallest alleviation 
of his fate. 

"In South Carolina the British officer called Fraser, 
after trying in every manner to induce the prisoners 
to enlist, said to them: 'Go to your dungeons in the 
prison ships, where you shall perish and rot, but first 
let me tell you that the rations which have been hith- 
erto allowed for your wives and children shall, from 
this moment, cease forever; and you shall die as- 
sured that they are starving in the public streets, and 
that you are the authors of their fate.' 

"A sentence so terribly awful appalled the firm soul 
of every listening hero. A solemn silence followed 
the declaration; they cast their wondering eyes one 
upon the other, and valor, for a moment, hung sus- 
pended between love of family, and love of country. 
Love of country at length rose superior to every other 
consideration, and moved by one impulse, this glorious 
band of patriots thundered into the astonished ears 
of their persecutors, 'The prison-ships and Death, or 
Washington and our country!' 

"Meagre famine shook hands with haggard pesti- 
lence, joining a league to appall, conquer, and destroy 
the glorious spirit of liberty." 



CHAPTER XXIII 
A Poet on a Prison Ship 

PHILIP Freneau, the poet of the Revolution, as 
he has been called, was of French Huguenot 
ancestry. The Freneaus came to New York in 1685. 
His mother was Agnes Watson, a resident of New 
York, and the poet was born on the second of 
January, 1752. 

In the year 1780 a vessel of which he was the 
owner, called the Aurora, was taken by the British. 
Freneau was on board, though he was not the captain 
of the ship. The British man-of-war, Iris, made the 
Aurora her prize, after a fight in which the sailing 
master and many of the crew were killed. This was 
in May, 1780. The survivors were brought to New 
York, and confined on board the prison ship, Scor- 
pion. Freneau has left a poem describing the horrors 
of his captivity in very strong language, and it is 
easy to conceive that his suffering must have been 
intense to have aroused such bitter feelings. We give 
a part of his poem, as it contains the best description 
of the indignities inflicted upon the prisoners, and their 
mental and physical sufferings that we have found 
in any work on the subject. 

PART OF PHII^IP FRENEAU'S POEM ON THE PRISON SHIPS 

Conveyed to York we found, at length, too late, 
Thai; Death was better than the prisoner's fate: 
There doomed to famine, shackles, and despair, 
Condemned to breathe a foul, infected air, 
In sickly hulks, devoted while we lay, — 
Successive funerals gloomed each dismal day. 

The various horrors of these hulks to tell — 

These prison ships where Pain and Penance dwell. 



228 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

Where Death in ten-fold veng-eance holds his reign, 
And injured ghosts, yet unavenged, complain: 
This be my task — ungenerous Britons, you 
Conspire to murder whom you can't subdue 

So much we suffered from the tribe I hate, 
So near they shoved us to the brink of fate, 
When two long months in these dark hulks we lay, 
Barred down by night, and fainting all the day, 
In the fierce fervors of the solar beam 
Cooled by no breeze on Hudson's mountain stream, 
That not unsung these threescore days shall fall 
To black oblivion that would cover all. 

No masts or sails these crowded ships adorn, 

Dismal to view, neglected and forlorn; 

Here mighty ills oppressed the imprisoned throng; 

Dull were our slumbers, and our nights were long. 

From morn to eve along the decks we lay. 

Scorched into fevers by the solar ray; 

No friendly awning cast a welcome shade, 

Once was it promised, and was never made; 

No favors could these sons of Death bestow, 

'Twas endless vengeance, and unceasing woe. 

Immortal hatred doth their breasts engage, 

And this lost empire swells their souls with rage. 

Two hulks on Hudson's stormy bosom lie. 
Two, on the east, alarm the pitying- eye, 
There, the black Scorpion at her mooring rides, 
And there Strombolo, swinging, yields the tides; 
Here bulky Jersey fills a larger space. 
And Hunter, to all hospitals disgrace. 
Thou Scorpion, fatal to thy crowded throng, 
Dire theme of horror to Plutonian song, 
Requir'st my lay, — thy sultry decks I know, 
And all the torments that exist below ! 
The briny wave that Hudson's bosom fills 
Drained through her bottom in a thousand rills; 
Rotten and old, replete with sighs and groans, 
Scarce on the water she sustained her bones: 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 229 

Here, doomed to toil, or founder in the tide, 

At the moist pumps incessantly we plied: 

Here, doomed to starve, like famished dogs we tore 

The scant allowance that our tyrants bore. 

Remembrance shudders at this scene of fears, 

Still in my view, some tyrant chief appears, 

Some base-born Hessian slave walks threatening by. 

Some servile Scot with murder in his eye. 

Still haunts my sight, as vainly they bemoan 

Rebellions managed so unlike their own. 

O may I never feel the poignant pain 

To live subjected to such fiends again ! 

Stewards and mates that hostile Britain bore. 

Cut from the gallows on their native shore; 

Their ghastly looks and vengeance beaming eyes 

Still to my view in dismal visions rise, — 

O may I ne'er review these dire abodes, 

These piles for slaughter floating on the floods ! 

And you that o'er the troubled ocean go 

Strike not your standards to this venomed foe. 

Better the greedy wave should swallow all. 

Better to meet the death-conducting ball, 

Better to sleep on ocean's oozy bed, 

At once destroyed and numbered with the dead. 

Than thus to perish in the face of day 

Where twice ten thousand deaths one death delay. 

When to the ocean sinks the western sun. 

And the scorched tories fire their evening gun, 

'Down, rebels, down !" the angry Scotchmen cry, 

'Base dogs, descend, or by our broadswords die!" 

Hail, dark abode! What can with thee compare? 
Heat, sickness, famine, death, and stagnant air, — 

Swift from the guarded decks we rushed along. 
And vainly sought repose, so vast our throng. 
Three hundred wretches here, denied all light, 
In crowded quarters pass the infernal night. 
Some for a bed their tattered vestments join. 
And some on chest, and some on floors recline; 



230 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

Shut from the blessings of the evening air 
Pensive w^e lay with mingled corpses there: 
Meagre and v^an, and scorched with heat below, 
We looked like ghosts ere death had made us so: 
How could we else, where heat and hunger joined 
Thus to debase the body and the mind? 
Where cruel thirst the parching throat invades, 
Dries up the man and fits him for the shades? 
No waters laded from the bubbling spring 
To these dire ships these little tyrants bring — 
By plank and ponderous beams completely walled 
In vain for water, still in vain we called. 
No drop was granted to the midnight prayer 
To rebels in these regions of despair! 
The loathsome cask a deadly dose contains, 
Its poison circles through the languid veins. 
"Here, generous Briton, generous, as you say, 
To my parched tongue one cooling drop convey — 
Hell has no mischief like a thirsty throat, 
Nor one tormentor like your David Sproat !" 

Dull flew the hours till, from the East displayed, 
Sweet morn dispelled the horrors of the shade: 
On every side dire objects met the sight. 
And pallid forms, and murders of the night: 
The dead were past their pains, the living groan, 
Nor dare to hope another morn their own. 
*********** 
O'er distant streams appears the living green, 
And leafy trees on mountain tops are seen: 
But they no grove or grassy mountain tread, 
Marked for a longer journey to the dead. 

Black as the clouds that shade St. Kilda's shore, 
Wild as the winds that round her mountains roar, 
At every post some surly vagrant stands, 
Culled from the English, or the Scottish bands. 
Dispensing death triumphantly they stand, 
Their musquets ready to obey command; 
Wounds are their sport, and ruin is their aim; 
On their dark souls compassion has no claim, 



American Prisoners of the Revoi^ution 231 

And discord only can their spirits please, 
Such were our tyrants here, such foes as these. 
*********** 
But such a train of endless woes abound 
So many mischiefs in these hulks are found 
That on them all a poem to prolong- 
Would swell too high the horrors of our song. 
Hunger and thirst to work our woe combine, 
And mouldy bread, and flesh of rotten swine; 
The mangled carcase and the battered brain; 
The doctor's poison, and the captain's cane; 
The soldier's musquet, and the steward's debt: 
The evening shackle, and the noonday threat. 

That charm whose virtue warms the world beside, 

Was by these tyrants to our use denied. 

While yet they deigned that healthsome balm to lade, 

The putrid water felt its powerful aid; 

But when refused, to aggravate our pains, 

Then fevers raged and revelled through our veins; 

Throughout my frame I felt its deadly heat; 

I felt my pulse with quicker motions beat; 

A pallid hue o'er every face was spread. 

Unusual pains attacked the fainting head: 

No physic here, no doctor to assist. 

With oaths they placed me on the sick man's list: 

Twelve wretches more the same dark symptoms took. 

And these were entered on the doctor's book. 

The loathsome Hunter was our destined place. 

The Hunter, to all hospitals disgrace. 

With soldiers sent to guard us on the road, 

Joyful we left the Scorpion's dire abode: 

Some tears we shed for the remaining crew. 

Then cursed the hulk, and from her sides withdrew. 

THD HOSPlTAIv PRISON SHIP 

Now towards the Hunter's gloomy decks we came, 
A slaughter house, yet hospital in name; 
For none came there till ruined with their fees, 
And half consumed, and dying of disease: — 



232 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

But when too near, with laboring oar, we plied, 

The Mate, with curses, drove us from the side: — 

That wretch, who banished from the navy crew, 

Grown old in blood did here his trade renew. 

His rancorous tongue, when on his charge let loose, 

Uttered reproaches, scandal, and abuse; 

Gave all to hell who dared his king disown. 

And swore mankind were made for George alone. 

A thousand times, to irritate our woe. 

He wished^us foundered in the gulph below: 

A thousand times he brandished high his stick, 

And swore as often, that we were not sick: — 

And yet so pale ! that we were thought by some 

A freight of ghosts from Death's dominions come. 

But, calmed at length, for who can always rage? 

Or the fierce war of boundless passion wage? 

He pointed to the stairs that led below 

To damps, disease, and varied forms of woe: — 

Down to the gloom I took my pensive way. 

Along the decks the dying captives lay, 

Some struck with madness, some with scurvy pained, 

But still of putrid fevers most complained. 

On the hard floors the wasted objects laid 

There tossed and tumbled in the dismal shade: 

There no soft voice their bitter fate bemoaned, 

But Death strode stately, while his victims groaned. 

Of leaky decks I heard them long complain. 

Drowned as they were in deluges of rain: 

Denied the comforts of a dying bed. 

And not a pillow to support the head: 

How could they else but pine, and grieve and sigh, 

Detest a wretched life, and wish to die? 

Scarce had I mingled with this wretched band, 

When a thin victim seized me by the hand: — 
"And art thou come?" — death heavy on his eyes — 
"And art thou come to these abodes?" he cries, 
"Why didst thou leave the Scorpion's dark retreat? 

And hither haste, a surer death to meet? 

Why didst thou leave thy damp, infected cell? 

If that was purgatory, this is hell. 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 233 

We too, grown weary of that horrid shade, 
Petitioned early for the Doctor's aid; 
His aid denied, more deadly symptoms came, 
Weak and yet weaker, glowed the vital flame; 
And when disease had worn us down so low 
That few could tell if we were ghosts or no, 
And all asserted death would be our fate. 
Then to the Doctor we were sent, too late." 

Ah! rest in peace, each injured, parted shade, 
By cruel hands in death's dark weeds arrayed, 
The days to come shall to your memory raise 
Piles on these shores, to spread through earth your 
praise. 

THE HESSIAN DOCTOR 

From Brooklyn heights a Hessian doctor came, 
Nor great his skill, nor greater much his fame: 
Fair Science never called the wretch her son, 
And Art disdained the stupid man to own. 

He on his charge the healing work begun 

With antinomial mixtures by the tun: 

Ten minutes was the time he deigned to stay, 

The time of grace allotted once a day: 

He drenched us well with bitter draughts, tis true, 

Nostrums from hell, and cortex from Peru: 

Some with his pills he sent to Pluto's reign, 

And some he blistered with his flies of Spain. 

His Tartar doses walked their deadly round, 

Till the lean patient at the potion frowned. 

And swore that hemlock, death, or what you will, 

Were nonsense to the drugs that stuffed his bill. 

On those refusing he bestowed a kick. 

Or menaced vengeance with his walking stick: 

Here uncontrolled he exercised his trade. 

And grew experienced by the deaths he made. 

Knave though he was, yet candor must confess 
Not chief physician was this man of Hesse: 



234 American Prisoners of the Revoi^ution 

One master o'er the murdering tribe was placed, 
By him the rest were honored or disgraced. 
Once, and but once, by some strange fortune led. 
He came to see the dying and the dead. 
He came, but anger so inflamed his eye, 
And such a faulchion glittered on his thigh, 
And such a gloom his visage darkened o'er, 
And two such pistols in his hands he bore. 
That, by the gods, with such a load of steel. 
We thought he came to murder, not to heal. 
Rage in his heart, and mischief in his head. 
He gloomed destruction, and had smote us dead 
Had he so dared, but fear withheld his hand, 
He came, blasphemed, and turned again to land. 

THE BENEVOLENT CAPTAIN 

From this poor vessel, and her sickly crew 
A british seaman all his titles drew; 
Captain, Esquire, Commander, too, in chief, 
And hence he gained his bread and hence his beef: 
But sir, you might have searched creation round, 
And such another ruffian not have found. 
Though unprovoked an angry face he bore; — 
All were astonished at the oaths he swore. 
He swore, till every prisoner stood aghast. 
And thought him Satan in a brimstone blast. 
He wished us banished from the public light; 
He wished us shrouded in perpetual night; 

He swore, besides, that should the ship take fire 
We, too, must in the pitchy flames expire: — 
That if we wretches did not scrub the decks 
His staff should break our base, rebellious necks; 

If, where he walked, a murdered carcase lay. 
Still dreadful was the language of the day; 
He called us dogs, and would have held us so. 
But terror checked the meditated blow 
Of vengeance, from our injured nation due, 
To him, and all the base, unmanly crew. 



American Prisoners of the Revoi^ution 235 

Such food they sent to make complete our woes 
It looked like carrion torn from hungry crows. 
Such vermin vile on every joint were seen, 
So black, corrupted, mortified, and lean. 
That once we tried to move our flinty chief, 
And thus addressed him, holding up the beef: — 
"See, Captain, see, what rotten bones we pick. 
What kills the healthy cannot cure the sick; 
Not dogs on such by Christian men are fed. 
And see, good master, see, what lousy bread!" 
"Yoiir meat or bread," this man of death replied, 
"Tis not my care to manage or provide: 
But this, base rebel dogs I'd have you know. 
That better than you merit we bestow: — 
Out of my sight !" nor more he deigned to say, 
But whisked about, and frowning, strode away. 

CONCIvUSION 

Each day at least six carcases we bore 

And scratched them graves along the sandy shore: 

By feeble hands the shallow graves were made, 

No stone memorial o'er the corpses laid: 

In barren sands and far from home they lie; 

No friend to shed a tear when passing by: 

O'er the mean tombs insulting Britons tread, 

Spurn at the sand, and curse the rebel dead. 

When to your arms these fatal islands fall — 

For first or last, they must be conquered, all, 

Americans ! to rites sepulchral just 

With gentlest footstep press this kindred dust. 

And o'er the tombs, if tombs can then be found, 

Place the green turf, and plant the myrtle round. 

This poem was written in 1780, the year that 
Freneau was captured. He was on board the Scor- 
pion and Hunter about two months, and was then ex- 
changed. We fear that he has not in the least exag- 
gerated the horrors of his situation. In fact there 
seem to have been many bloody pages torn from the 
book of history, that can never be perused. Many 



236 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

dark deeds were done in these foul prisons, of which 
we can only give hints, and the details of many crimes 
committed against the helpless prisoners are left to 
our imaginations. But enough and more than enough 
is known to make us fear that inhumanity, a species 
of cruelty unknown to the lower animals, is really 
one of the most prominent characteristics of men. 
History is a long and bloody record of battles, mas- 
sacres, torture chambers; greed and violence; bigotry 
and sin. The root of all crimes is selfishness. What 
we call inhumanity is we fear not inhuman, but 
human nature unrestrained. It is true that some 
progress is made, and it is no longer the custom to 
kill all captives, at least not in civilized countries. 
But war will always be ''horrida hella," chiefly be- 
cause war means license, when the unrestrained, 
wolfish passions of man get for the time the upper 
hand. Our task, however, is not that of a moralist, 
but of a narrator of facts, from which all who read 
can draw the obvious moral for themselves. 



CHAPTER XXIV 
"There Was a Ship" 

OF ALL the ships that were ever launched the 
''Old Jersey" is the most notorious. Never 
before or since^ in the dark annals of human suf- 
ferings, has so small a space enclosed such a heavy- 
weight of misery. No other prison has destroyed so 
many human beings in so short a space of time. And 
yet the Jersey was once as staunch and beautiful a 
vessel as ever formed a part of the Royal Navy of 
one of the proudest nations of the world. How little 
did her builders imagine that she would go down to 
history accompanied by the execrations of all who 
are acquainted with her terrible record! 

It is said that it was in the late spring of 1780 that 
the Old Jersey, as she was then called, was first 
moored in Wallabout Bay, off the coast of Long 
Island. We can find no record to prove that she was 
used as a prison ship until the winter of that year. 
She was, at first, a hospital ship for British soldiers. 

The reason for the removal of the unfortunate 
prisoners from the ships in New York Harbor was 
that pestilential sickness was fast destroying them, 
and it was feared that the inhabitants of New York 
would suffer from the prevailing epidemics. They 
were therefore placed in rotten hulks off the quiet 
shores of Long Island, where, secluded from the 
public eye, they were allowed to perish by the 
thousands from cruel and criminal neglect. 

"The Old Jersey and the two hospital ships," says 
General J. Johnson, "remained in the Wallabout until 
New York was evacuated by the British. The Jersey 



238 American Prisoners of the Revoi^ution 

was the receiving ship: the others, truly, the ships 
of death! 

"It has been generally thought that all the prison- 
ers died on board the Jersey. This is not true. Many 
may have died on board of her who were not re- 
ported as sick, but all who were placed on the sick 
list were removed to the hospital ships, from which 
they were usually taken, sewed up in a blanket, to 
their graves. 

"After the hospital ships were brought into the 
Wallabout, it was reported that the sick were at- 
tended by physicians. Few indeed were those who 
recovered, or came back to tell the tale of their suf- 
ferings in those horrible places. It was no uncommon 
sight to see five or six dead bodies brought on shore 
in a single morning, when a small excavation would 
be dug at the foot of the hill, the bodies cast into it, 
and then a man with a shovel would quickly cover 
them by shovelling sand down the hill upon them. 

"Many were buried in a ravine of this hill and many 
on Mr. Remsen's farm. The whole shore, from 
Rennie's Point, to Mr. Remsen's dooryard, was a 
place of graves; as were also the slope of the hill 
near the house; the shore, from Mr. Remsen's barn 
along the mill-pond to Rappelye's farm ; and the sandy 
island between the flood-gates and the mill-dam, while 
a few were buried on the shore on the east side of 
the Wallabout. 

"Thus did Death reign here, from 1776 (when the 
Whitby prison ship was first moored in the Wall- 
about) until the peace. The whole Wallabout was a 
sickly place during the war. The atmosphere seemed 
to be charged with foul air : from the prison ships : 
and with the effluvia of dead bodies washed out of 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 239 

their graves by the tides. * -!< * More than half 
of the dead buried on the outer side of the mill-pond, 
were washed out by the waves at high tide, during 
northeasterly winds. 

"The bodies of the dead lay exposed along the 
beach, drying and bleaching in the sun, and whitening 
the shores, till reached by the power of a succeeding 
storm, as the agitated waves receded, the bones re- 
ceded with them into the deep, where they remain, 
unseen by man, awaiting the resurrection morn, when, 
again joined to the spirits to which they belong, they 
will meet their persecuting murderers at the bar of 
the Supreme Judge of the quick and the dead. 

"We have ourselves," General Johnson continues, 
"'examined many of the skulls lying on the shore. 
From the teeth they appeared to be the remains of 
men in the prime of life." 

We will quote more of this interesting account 
written by an eyewitness of the horrors he records, 
in a later chapter. At present we will endeavor to 
give the reader a short history of the Jersey, from the 
day of her launching to her degradation, when she 
was devoted to the foul usages of a prison ship. 

She was a fourth rate ship of the line, mounting 
sixty guns, and carrying a crew of four hundred men. 
She was built in 1736, having succeeded to the name 
of a celebrated 50-gun ship, which was then with- 
drawn from the service, and with which she must not 
be confounded. In 1737 she was fitted for sea as 
one of the Channel Fleet, commanded by Sir John 
Norris. 

In the fall of 1738 the command of the Jersey was 
given to Captain Edmund Williams, and in July, 1739, 
she was one of the vessels which were sent to the 



240 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

Mediterranean under Rear Admiral Chaloner Ogle, 
when a threatened rupture with Spain rendered it 
necessary to strengthen the naval force in that 
quarter. 

The trouble in the Mediterranean having been 
quieted by the appearance of so strong a fleet, in 1740 
the Jersey returned home; but she was again sent 
out, under the command of Captain Peter Lawrence, 
and was one of the vessels forming the fleet of Sir 
John Norris, when, in the fall of that year and in the 
spring of 1741, that gentleman made his fruitless 
demonstrations against the Spanish coast. Soon after- 
wards the Jersey, still forming one of the fleet com- 
manded by Sir Chaloner Ogle, was sent to the West 
Indies, to strengthen the forces at that station, com- 
manded by Vice-Admiral Vernon, and she was with 
that distinguished oflicer when he made his well- 
known, unsuccessful attack on Carthagena, and the 
Spanish dominions in America in that year. 

In March, 1743, Captain Lawrence was succeeded 
in the command of the Jersey by Captain Harry 
Norris, youngest son of Admiral Sir John Norris: 
and the Jersey formed one of the fleet commanded by 
Sir John Norris, which was designed to watch the 
enemy's Brest fleet; but having suffered severely 
from a storm while on that station, she was obliged 
to return to the Downs. 

Captain Harry Norris having been promoted to a 
heavier ship, the command of the Jersey was given 
soon afterwards to Captain Charles Hardy subse- 
quently well known as Governor of the Colony of 
New York; and in June, 1744, that officer having 
been appointed to the command of the Newfound- 
land Station, she sailed for North America, and bore 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 241 

his flag in those waters during the remainder of the 
year. In 1745, still under the immediate command of 
Captain Hardy, the Jersey was one of the ships which, 
under Vice-Admiral Medley, were sent to the 
Mediterranean, where Vice-Admiral Sir WilHam 
Rowley then commanded; and as she continued on 
that station during the following year there is little 
doubt that Captain Hardy remained there, during the 
remainder of his term of service on that vessel. 

It was while under the command of Captain Hardy 
in July, 1745, that the Jersey was engaged with the 
French ship, St. Esprit, of 74 guns, in one of the most 
desperate engagements on record. The action con- 
tinued during two hours and a half, when the St. 
Esprit was compelled to bear away for Cadiz, where 
she was repaired and refitted for sea. At the close 
of Sir Charles Hardy's term of service in 1747, the 
Jersey was laid up, evidently unfit for active service; 
and in October, 1748, she was reported among the 
"hulks" in port. 

On the renewal of hostilities with France in 1756 
the Jersey was refitted for service, and the command 
given to Captain John Barker, and in May, 1757, she 
was sent to the Mediterranean, where, under the 
orders of Admiral Henry Osbourne, she continued 
upwards of two years, having been present, on the 
28th of February, 1758, when M. du Quesne made his 
ineffectual attempt to reinforce M. De la Clue, who 
was then closely confined, with the fleet under his 
command, in the harbor of Carthagena. 

On the 18th of August, 1759, while commanded by 

Captain Barker, the Jersey, with the Culloden and 

the Conqueror, were ordered by Admiral Boscowan, 

the commander of the fleet, to proceed to the mouth 

-16 



242 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

of the harbor of Toulon, for the purpose of cutting 
out or destroying two French ships which were 
moored there under cover of the batteries with the 
hope of forcing the French Admiral, De la Clue, to 
an engagement. The three ships approached the 
harbour, as directed, with great firmness; but they 
were assailed by so heavy a fire, not only from the 
enemy's ships and fortifications, but from several 
masked batteries, that, after an unequal but desperate 
contest of upwards of three hours, they were com- 
pelled to retire without having succeeded in their ob- 
ject; and to repair to Gibraltar to be refitted. 

In the course of the year 1759 Captain Barker was 
succeeded in the command of the Jersey by Captain 
Andrew Wilkinson, under whom, forming one of the 
Mediterranean fleet, commanded by Sir Charles 
Saunders, she continued in active service until 1763. 

In 1763 peace was established, and the Jersey re- 
turned to England and was laid up ; but in May, 1766, 
she was again commissioned, and under the command 
of Captain William Dickson, and bearing the flag 
of Admiral Spry, she was ordered to her former 
station in the Mediterranean, where she remained three 
years. 

In the spring of 1769, bearing the flag of Commo- 
dore Sir John Byron, the Jersey sailed for America. 
She seems to have returned home at the close of the 
summer, and her active duties appear to have been 
brought to an end. 

She remained out of commission until 1776, when, 
without armament, and under the command of Cap- 
tain Anthony Halstead, she was ordered to New York 
as a hospital ship. 

Captain Halstead died on the 17th of May, 1778, 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 243 

and, in July following, he was succeeded by Com- 
mander David Laird^ under whom, either as a hos- 
pital, or a prison ship, she remained in Wallabout 
bay, until she was abandoned at the close of the war, 
to her fate, which was to rot in the mud at her moor- 
ings, until, at last, she sank, and for many years her 
wretched worm-eaten old hulk could be seen at low 
tide, shunned by all, a sorry spectacle, the ghost of 
what had once been a gallant man-of-war. 

This short history of the Jersey has been condensed 
from the account written in 1865 by Mr. Henry B. 
Dawson and published at Morrisania, New York, in 
that year. 

In an oration delivered by Mr. Jonathan Russel, in 
Providence, R. I., on the 4th of July 1800, he thus 
speaks of this ill-fated vessel and of her victims : 
"But it was not in the ardent conflicts of the field 
only, that our countrymen fell ; it was not the or- 
dinary chances of war alone which they had to en- 
counter. Happy indeed, thrice happy were Warren, 
Montgomery, and Mercer; happy those other gallant 
spirits who fell with glory in the heat of the battle, 
distinguished by their country and covered with her 
applause. Every soul sensible to honor, envies rather 
than compassionates their fate. It was in the dun- 
geons of our inhuman invaders; it was in the loath- 
some and pestiferous prisons, that the wretchedness 
of our countrymen still makes the heart bleed. It was 
there that hunger, and thirst, and disease, and all the 
contumely that cold-hearted cruelty could bestow, 
sharpened every pang of death. Misery there wrung 
every fibre that could feel, before she gave the Blow 
of Grace which sent the sufferer to eternity. It is 
said that poison was employed. No, there was no 



244 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

such mercy there. There, nothing was employed 
which could blunt the susceptibility to anguish, or 
which, by hastening death, could rob its agonies of a 
single pang. On board one only of these Prison 
ships above 11,000 of our brave countrymen are said 
to have perished. She was called the Jersey. Her 
wreck still remains, and at low ebb, presents to the 
world its accursed and blighted fragments. Twice in 
twenty- four hours the winds of Heaven sigh through 
it, and repeat the groans of our expiring countrymen ; 
and twice the ocean hides in her bosom those deadly 
and polluted ruins, which all her waters cannot 
purify. Every rain that descends washes from the 
unconsecrated bank the bones of those intrepid suf- 
ferers. They lic; naked on the shore, accusing the 
neglect of their countrymen. How long shall grati- 
tude, and even piety deny them burial? They ought 
to be collected in one vast ossory, which shall stand 
a monument to future ages, of the two extremes of 
human character: of that depravity which, trampling 
on the rights of misfortune, perpetrated cold and cal- 
culating murder on a wretched and defenceless pris- 
oner; and that virtue which animated this prisoner 
to die a willing martyr to his country. Or rather, 
were it possible, there ought to be raised a Colossal 
Column whose base sinking to Hell, should let the 
murderers read their infamy inscribed upon it; and 
whose capital of Corinthian laurel ascending to 
Heaven, should show the sainted Patriots that they 
have triumphed. 

''Deep and dreadful as the coloring of this picture 
may appear, it is but a faint and imperfect sketch 
of the original. You must remember a thousand un- 
utterable calamities; a thousand instances of domestic 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 245 

as well as national anxiety and distress ; which mock 
description. You ought to remember them; you 
ought to hand them down in tradition to your pos- 
terity, that they may know the awful price their 
fathers paid for freedom." 



CHAPTER XXV 

A Description of the Jersey 

SONNET 

suggested by a vision of the jersey prison ship 

By W. p. p. 

O Sea! in whose unfathomable gloom 

A world forlorn of wreck and ruin lies, 

In thy avenging majesty arise, 

And with a sound as of the trump of doom 

Whelm from all eyes for aye yon living tomb, 

Wherein the martyr patriots groaned for years, 

A prey to hunger and the bitter jeers 

Of foes in whose relentless breasts no room 

Was ever found for pity or remorse; 

But haunting anger and a savage hate. 

That spared not e'en their victim's very corse. 

But left it, outcast, to its carrion fate. 

Wherefore, arise, O Sea! and sternly sweep 

This floating dungeon to thy lowest deep. 

IT WAS stated in the portion of the eloquent ora- 
tion given in our last chapter that more than 
11,000 prisoners perished on board the Jersey alone, 
during the space of three years and a half that she 
was moored in the waters of Wallabout Bay. This 
statement has never been contradicted, as far as we 
know, by British authority. Yet we trust that it is 
exaggerated. It would give an average of more than 
three thousand deaths a year. The whole number of 
names copied from the English War Records of pris- 
oners on board the Jersey is about 8,000. This, how- 
ever, is an incomplete list. You will in vain search 
through its pages to find the recorded names of many 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 247 

prisoners who have left well attested accounts of their 
captivity on board that fatal vessel. All that we can 
say now is that the number who perished there is very 
great. 

As late as 1841 the bones of many of these victims 
were still to be found on the shores of Walabout Bay, 
in and around the Navy Yard. On the 4th of Feb- 
ruary of that year some workmen, while engaged in; 
digging away an embankment in Jackson Street 
Brooklyn, near the Navy Yard, accidentally uncov- 
ered a quantity of human bones, among which was a 
skeleton having a pair of iron manacles still upon the 
wrists. (See Thompson's History of Long Island, 
Vol. 1, page 247.) 

In a paper published at Fishkill on the 18th of May^ 
1783, is the following card: "To All Printers, of 
Public Newspapers : — Tell it to the world, and let it 
be published in every Newspaper throughout Amer- 
ica, Europe, Asia, and Africa, to the everlasting dis- 
grace and infamy of the British King's commanders, 
at New York: That during the late war it is said 
that 11,644 American prisoners have suffered death 
by their inhuman, cruel, savage, and barbarous usage 
on board the filthy and malignant British prison ship 
called the Jersey, lying at New York. Britons trem- 
ble, lest the vengeance of Fleaven fall on your isle,, 
for the blood of these unfortunate victims! 

''An American." 

"They died, the young, the loved, the brave, 
The death barge came for them, 
And where the seas yon black rocks lave 

Is heard their requiem. 
They buried them and threw the sand 
Unhallowed o'er that patriot band. 



248 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

The black ship like a demon sate 

Upon the prowling deep; 
From her came fearful sounds of hate, 

Till pain stilled all in sleep. 
It was the sleep that victims take, 
Tied, tortured, dying, at the stake. 

Yet some the deep has now updug, 

Their bones are in the sun; 
Whether by sword or deadly drug 

They perished, one by one, 
Was it not dread for mortal eye 
To see them all so strangely die? 

Are there those murdered men who died 

For freedom and for me? 
They seem to point, in martyred pride 

To that spot upon the sea 
From whence came once the frenzied yell, 
From out that wreck, that prison hell." 

This rough but strong old poem was written many- 
years ago by a Mr. Whitman. We have taken the Hb- 
erty of retouching it to a slight degree. 

It is well known that twenty hogsheads of bones 
were collected in 1808 from the shores of the Walla- 
bout, and buried under the auspices of the Tammany 
Society in a vault prepared for the purpose. These 
were but a small part of the remains of the victims 
of the prison ships. Many were, as we have seen, 
washed into the sea, and many more were interred on 
the shores of New York Harbor, before the prison 
ships were removed to the Wallabout. It will be bet- 
ter that we should give the accounts left to us by eye 
witnesses of the sufferings on board these prison 
ships, and we will therefore quote from the narrative 
of John Van Dyke, who was confined on board the 
Jersey before her removal to the Wallabout. 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 249 

Captain John Van Dyke was taken prisoner in May, 
1780, at which time he says: "We were put on 
board the prison ship Jersey, anchored off Fly 
Market. (New York City.) This ship had been a 
hospital ship. When I came on board her stench was 
so great, and my breathing this putrid air — I thought 
it would kill me, but after being on board some days 
I got used to it, and as though all was a common 
smell. * * "^ 

"On board the Jersey prison ship it was short allow- 
ance, so short a person would think it was not possible 
for a man to live on. They starved the American 
prisoners to make them enlist in their service. I will 
now relate a fact. Every man in a mess of six took 
his daily turn to get the mess's provisions. One day 
I went to the galley and drew a piece of salt, boiled 
pork. I went to our mess to divide it "^ * * I 
cut each one his share, and each one eat our day's al- 
lowance in one mouthful of this salt pork and nothing 
else. One day called peaday I took the drawer of 
our doctor's chest (Dr. Hodges of Philadelphia) and 
went to the galley, which was the cooking place, with 
my drawer for a soup dish. I held it under a large 
brass cock, the cook turned it. I received the allow- 
ance of my mess, and behold ! Brown water, and fif- 
teen floating peas — no peas on the bottom of my 
drawer, and this for six men's allowance for 24 
hours. The peas were all in the bottom of the kettle. 
Those left would be taken to New York and, I sup- 
pose, sold. 

"One day in the week, called pudding day, we would 
receive three pounds of damaged flour, in it would 
be green lumps such as their men would not eat, and 
one pound of very bad raisins, one third raisin sticks. 



250 American Prisoners of the Revoi^ution 

We would pick out the sticks, mash the lumps of flour, 
put all with some water into our drawer, mix our pud- 
ding and put it into a bag and boil it with a tally tied 
to it with the number of our mess. This was a day's 
allowance. We, for some time, drew a half pint of 
rum for each man. One day Captain Lard (Laird) 
who commanded the ship Jersey, came on board. As 
soon as he was on the main deck of the ship he cried 
out for the boatswain. The boatswain arrived and 
in a very quick motion, took off his hat. There be- 
ing on deck two half hogshead tubs where our allow- 
ance of rum was mixed into grog. Captain L., said, 
'Have the prisoners had their allowance of rum 
today?' /No, sir' answered the boatswain. Captain 
L. replied, 'Damn your soul, you rascal, heave it over- 
board.' 

''The boatswain, with help, upset the tubs of rum 
on the middle deck. The grog rum run out of the 
scuppers of the ship into the river. I saw no more 
grog on board. * * =^ Every fair day a number 
of British officers and sergeants would come on 
board, form in two ranks on the quarter deck, facing 
inwards, the prisoners in the after part of the quarter 
deck. As the boatswain would call a name, the word 
would be 'Pass!' As the prisoners passed between 
the ranks officers and sergeants stared them in the 
face. This was done to catch deserters, and if they 
caught nothing the sergeants would come on the mid- 
dle deck and cry out 'Five guineas bounty to any man 
that will enter his Majesty's service!' 

"Shortly after this party left the ship a Hessian 
party would come on board, and the prisoners had to 
go through the same routine of duty again. 

"From the Jersey prison ship eighty of us were 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 251 

taken to the pink stern sloop-of-war Hunter, Cap- 
tain Thomas Henderson, Commander. We were 
taken there in a large ship's long boat, towed by a 
ten-oar barge, and one other barge with a guard of 
soldiers in the rear. 

"On board the ship Hunter we drew one third al- 
lowance, and every Monday we received a loaf of wet 
bread, weighing seven pounds for each mess. This 
loaf was from Mr. John Pintard's father, of New 
York, the American Commissary, and this bread, with 
the allowance of provisions, we found sufficient to 
live on. 

"After we had been on board some time Mr. David 
Sproat, the British Commissary of prisoners, came on 
board; all the prisoners were ordered aft; the roll 
was called and as each man passed him Mr. Sproat 
would ask, 'Are you a seaman?' The answer was 
'Landsman, landsman.' There were ten landsmen to 
one answer of half seaman. When the roll was fin- 
ished Mr. Sproat said to our sea officers, 'Gentlemen, 
how do you make out at sea, for the most part of 
you are landsmen?' 

"Our officers answered : 'You hear often how we 
make out. When we meet our force, or rather more 
than our force we give a good account of them.' 

"Mr. Sproat asked, 'And are not your vessels bet- 
ter manned than these. Our officers replied, 'Mr 
Sproat, we are the best manned out of the port of Phil- 
adelphia.' Mr. Sproat shrugged his shoulders say- 
ing, 'I cannot see how you do it.' " 

We do not understand what John Van Dyke meant 
by his expression "half seaman." It is probable that 
the sailors among the prisoners pretended to be sol- 
diers in order to be exchanged. There was much more 



252 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

difficulty in exchanging sailors than soldiers, as we 
shall see. David Sproat was the British Commissary 
for Naval Prisoners alone. In a paper published in 
New York in April 28th, 1780, appears the following 
notice : — "I do hereby direct all Captains, Command- 
ers, Masters, and Prize Masters of ships and other 
vessels, who bring naval prisoners into this port, imme- 
diately to send a Hst of their names to this office. No. 
33 Maiden Lane, where they will receive an order how 
to dispose of them. 

"(Signed) David Sproat." 

The Jersey and some of the other prison ships often 
had landsmen among their prisoners, at least until the 
last years of the war, when they were so overcrowded 
with sailors, that there must have been scant room 
for any one else. 

The next prisoner whose recollections we will con- 
sider is Captain Silas Talbot, who was confined on 
board the Jersey in the fall of 1780. He says: "All 
her port holes were closed. * * * There were 
about 1,100 prisoners on board. There were no berths 
or seats, to lie down on, not a bench to sit on. Many 
were almost without cloaths. The dysentery, fever, 
phrenzy and despair prevailed among them, and filled 
the place with filth, disgust and horror. The scanti- 
ness of the allowance, the bad quality of the provi- 
sions, the brutality of the guards, and the sick, pin- 
ing for comforts they could not obtain, altogether 
furnished continually one of the greatest scenes of 
human distress and misery ever beheld. It was now 
the middle of October, the weather was cool and 
clear, with frosty nights, so that the number of deaths 
per day was reduced to an average of ten, and this 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 253 

number was considered by the survivors a small one, 
when compared with the terrible mortality that had 
prevailed for three months before. The human bones 
and skulls, yet bleaching on the shore of Long 
Island, and daily exposed, by the falling down of the 
high bank on which the prisoners were buried, is a 
shocking sight, and manifestly demonstrates that the 
Jersey prison ship had been as destructive as a field 
of battle." 



CHAPTER XXVI 
The Experience of Ebenezer Fox 

EBENEZER Fox, a prisoner on board the Jersey, 
wrote a little book about his dreadful expe- 
riences when he was a very old man. The book was 
written in 1838, and pubHshed by Charles Fox in Bos- 
ton in 1848. Ebenezer Fox was born in the East Par- 
ish of Roxbury, Mass., in 1763. In the spring of 1775 
he and another boy named Kelly ran away to sea. 
Fox shipped as a cabin boy in a vessel commanded 
by Captain Joseph Manchester. 

He made several cruises and returned home. In 
1779 he enlisted, going as a substitute for the barber 
to whom he was apprenticed. His company was com- 
manded by Captain William Bird of Boston in a regi- 
ment under Colonel Proctor. Afterwards he signed 
ship's papers and entered the naval service on a twenty 
gun ship called the Protector, Captain John F. Wil- 
liams of Massachusetts. On the 1st of April, 1780, 
they sailed for a six months cruise, and on the ninth 
of June, 1780, fought the Admiral Duff until she took 
fire and blew up. A short time afterwards the Pro- 
tector was captured by two English ships called the 
Roebuck and Mayday. 

Fox concealed fifteen dollars in the crown of his 
hat, and fifteen more in the soles of his shoes. 

All the prisoners were sent into the hold. One third 
of the crew of the Protector were pressed into the 
British service. The others were sent to the Jersey. 
Evidently this prison ship had already become no- 
torious, for Fox writes: "The idea of being incarce- 
rated in this floating pandemonium filled us with hor- 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 255 

ror, but the ideas we had formed of its horror fell far 
short of the reality. * =i^ * The Jersey was re- 
moved from the East River, and moored with chain 
cables at the Wallabout in consequence of the fears 
entertained that the sickness which prevailed among 
the prisoners might spread to the shore. * * * I 
now found myself in a loathsome prison, among a 
collection of the most wretched and disgusting look- 
ing objects that I ever beheld in human form. 

"Here was a motley crew, covered with rags and 
filth; visages pallid with disease; emaciated with 
hunger and anxiety; and hardly retaining a trace of 
their original appearance. Here were men, who had 
once enjoyed life while riding over the mountain wave 
or roaming through pleasant fields, full of health and 
vigor, now shrivelled by a scanty and unwholesome 
diet, ghastly with inhaling an impure atmosphere, ex- 
posed to contagion; in contact with disease, and sur- 
rounded with the horrors of sickness, and death. 
Here, thought I, must I linger out the morning of 
my life" (he was seventeen) ''in tedious days and 
sleepless nights, enduring a weary and degrading cap- 
tivity, till death should terminate my sufferings, and 
no friend will know of my departure. 

"A prisoner on board the 'Old Jersey!' The very 
thought was appalling. I could hardly realize my sit- 
uation. 

"The first thing we found it necessary to do after 
our capture was to form ourselves into small parties 
called messes, consisting of six in each, as previous 
to doing this, we could obtain no food. All the pris- 
oners were obliged to fast on the first day of their ar- 
rival, and seldom on the second could they obtain any 
food in season for cooking it. * * * All the 



256 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

prisoners fared alike; officers and sailors received the 
same treatment on board of this old hulk. * * * 
We were all 'rebels.' The only distinction knovv^n among 
us was made by the prisoners themselves, which was 
shown in allowing those who had been officers pre- 
vious to their captivity, to congregate in the extreme 
afterpart of the ship, and to keep it exclusively to 
themselves as their place of abode. * * * 'The 
prisoners were confined in the two main decks below. 
The lowest dungeon was inhabited by those prisoners 
who were foreigners, and whose treatment was more 
severe than that of the Americans. 

''The inhabitants of this lower region were the 
most miserable and disgusting looking objects that 
can be conceived. Daily washing in salt water, to- 
gether with their extreme emaciation, caused the skin 
to appear like dried parchment. Many of them re- 
mained unwashed for weeks ; their hair long, and 
matted, and filled with vermin ; their beards never cut 
except occasionally with a pair of shears, which did 
not improve their comeliness, though it might add to 
their comfort. Their clothes were mere rags, secured 
to their bodies in every way that ingenuity could de- 
vise. 

"Many of these men had been in this lamentable 
condition for two years, part of the time on board 
other prison ships; and having given up all hope of 
ever being exchanged, had become resigned to their 
situation. These men were foreigners whose whole 
lives had been one continual scene of toil, hardship, 
and suffering. Their feelings were blunted; their 
dispositions soured; they had no sympathies for the 
world; no home to mourn for; no friends to lament 
for their fate. But far different was the condition 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 257 

of the most numerous class of prisoners, composed 
mostly of young men from New England, fresh from 
home. 

''They had reason to deplore the sudden change in 
their condition. * ^ * The thoughts of home, of 
parents, brothers, sisters, and friends, would crowd 
upon their minds, and brooding on what they had 
been, and what they were, their desire for home be- 
came a madness. The dismal and disgusting scene 
around; the wTetched objects continually in sight; 
and 'hope deferred which maketh the heart sick', pro- 
duced a state of melancholy that often ended in death, 
— the death of a broken heart." 

Fox describes the food and drink, the prison reg- 
ulations, deaths, and burials, just as they were de- 
scribed by Captain Dring, who wrote the fullest ac- 
count of the Jersey, and from whose memoirs we 
shall quote further on. He says of their shallow 
graves in the sand of the Wallabout : "This was the 
last resting place of many a son and a brother, — 
young and noble-spirited men, who had left their 
happy homes and kind friends to offer their lives in 
the service of their country. ^ ^ ^ Poor fellows ! 
They suffered more than their older companions in 
misery. They could not endure their hopeless and 
wearisome captivity: — to live on from day to day, 
denied the power of doing anything; condemned to 
that most irksome and heart-sickening of all situa- 
tions, utter inactivity; their restless and impetuous 
spirits, like caged lions, panted to be free, and the 
conflict was too much for endurance, enfeebled and 
worn out as they were with suffering and confine- 
ment. * ^ '^ The fate of many of these unhappy 
victims must have remained forever unknown to their 
—17 



258 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

friends; for in so large a number, no exact account 
could be kept of those who died, and they rested in 
a nameless grave; while those who performed the 
last sad rites were hurried away before their task 
was half completed, and forbid to express their horror 
and indignation at this insulting negligence towards 
the dead. * * * 

*'The regular crew of the Jersey consisted of a Cap- 
tain, two Mates, a steward, a cook, and about twelve 
sailors. There was likewise on board a guard of 
about thirty soldiers,, from the different regiments 
quartered on Long Island, who were relieved by a 
fresh party every week. 

"The physical force of the prisoners was sufficient 
at any time to take possession of the ship, but the 
difficulty was to dispose of themselves after a suc- 
cessful attempt. Long Island was in possession of 
the British, and the inhabitants were favorable to the 
British cause. To leave the ship and land on the 
island, would be followed by almost certain detection; 
and the miseries of our captivity would be increased 
by additional cruelties heaped upon us from the 
vindictive feelings of our oppressors. 

"Yet, small as was the chance for succeeding in the 
undertaking, the attempt to escape was often made, 
and in not a few instances with success. 

"Our sufferings were so intolerable, that we felt 
it to be our duty to expose ourselves to almost any 
risk to obtain our liberty. To remain on board of 
the prison ship seemed to be certain death, and in 
its most horrid form; to be killed, while endeavoring 
to get away, could be no worse. 

"American prisoners are proverbial for their in- 
genuity in devising ways and means to accomplish 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 259 

their plans, whether they be devised for their own 
comfort and benefit, or for the purpose of annoying 
and tormenting their keepers. 

''Although we were guarded with vigilance yet there 
did not appear much system in the management of 
the prisoners ; for we frequently missed a whole mess 
from our number, while their disappearance was not 
noticed by our keepers. Occasionally a few would 
be brought back who had been found in the woods 
upon Long Island, and taken up by the Tories. 

"Our mess one day noticed that the mess that oc- 
cupied the place next to them were among the miss- 
ing. This circumstance led to much conjecture and 
inquiry respecting the manner in which they had ef- 
fected their escape. By watching the movements of 
our neighbors we soon found out the process neces- 
sary to be adopted. 

"Any plan which a mess had formed they kept a 
secret among their number, in order to insure a 
greater prospect of success. * * * pQj. ^j^^ con- 
venience of the officers of the ship a closet, called the 
"round house", had been constructed under the fore- 
castle, the door of which was kept locked. This room 
was seldom used, there being other conveniences in 
the ship preferable to it. 

"Some of the prisoners had contrived to pick the 
lock of the door; and as it was not discovered the 
door remained unfastened. 

"After we had missed our neighbor prisoners, and 
had ascertained to our satisfaction their mode of op- 
eration, the members of our mess determined to 
seize the first opportunity that offered to attempt our 
escape. We selected a day, about the 15th of August, 
and made all the preparations in our power for en- 



260 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

suring us success in our undertaking. At sunset, 
when the usual cry from the officer of the guard, 
*Down, rebels, down!' was heard, instead of follow- 
ing the multitude down the hatchways, our mess, con- 
sisting of six, all Americans, succeeded in getting into 
the 'round house', except one. The round house was 
found too small to contain more than five; and the 
sixth man, whose name, I think, was Putnam of 
Boston, concealed himself under a large tub, which 
happened to be lying near the place of our confine- 
ment. The situation of the five, as closely packed in 
the round house as we could stand and breathe, was 
so uncomfortable as to make us very desirous of va- 
cating it as soon as possible. 

"We remained thus cooped up, hardly daring to 
breathe, for fear we should be heard by the guard. 
The prisoners were all below, and no noise was heard 
above, saving the tramp of the guard as he paced 
the deck. It was customary, after the prisoners were 
secured below, for the ship's mate every night to 
search above; this, however, was considered a mere 
formality, and the duty was very imperfectly ex- 
ecuted. While we were anxiously awaiting the com- 
pletion of this service, an event transpired, that we 
little anticipated, and which led to our detection. 

"One of the prisoners, an Irishman, had made his 
arrangements to escape the same evening, and had not 
communicated with any one on the subject except 
a countryman of his, whom he persuaded to bury him 
up in the coal hole, near the forecastle. 

"Whether his friend covered him faithfully or not, 
or whether the Irishman thought that if he could 
not see anybody, nobody could see him, or whether, 
feeling uncomfortable in his position, he turned over 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 261 

to relieve himself, I know not; but when the mate 
looked in the coal hole he espied something rather 
whiter than the coal, which he soon ascertained to 
be the Irishman's shoulder. This discovery made the 
officer suspicious, and induced him to make a more 
thorough search than usual. 

"We heard the uproar that followed the discovery, 
and the threats of the mate that he would search every 
damned corner. He soon arrived at the round house, 
and we heard him ask a soldier for the key. Our 
hopes and expectations were a little raised when we 
heard the soldier reply, 'There is no need of search- 
ing this place, for the door is kept constantly locked.' 

"But the mate was not to be diverted from his pur- 
pose, and ordered the soldier to get the key. 

"During the absence of the soldier, we had a little 
time to reflect upon the dangers of our situation ; 
crowded together in a space so small as not to admit of 
motion ; with no other protection than the thickness of a 
board; guarded on the outside by about twelve sol- 
diers, armed with cutlasses, and the mate, consider- 
ably drunk, with a pistol in each hand, threatening 
every moment to fire through; — our feelings may be 
more easily conceived than described. There was but 
little time for deliberation; something must be im- 
mediately done. * * * In a whispered consulta- 
tion of some moments, we conceived that the safest 
course we could pursue would be to break out with 
all the violence we could exercise, overcome every 
obstacle, and reach the quarter-deck. By this time 
the soldier had arrived with the key, and upon ap- 
plying it, the door was found to be unlocked. We now 
heard our last summons from the mate, with impre- 
cations too horrible to be repeated, and threatening 



262 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

us with instant destruction if we did not immediately 
come out. 

"To remain any longer where we were would have 
been certain death to some of us ; we therefore carried 
our hastily formed plan into execution. The door 
opened outwards, and forming ourselves into a solid 
body, we burst open the door, rushed out pellmell, 
and making a brisk use of our fists, knocked the guard 
heels over head in all directions, at the same time run- 
ning with all possible speed for the quarter-deck. As 
I rushed out, being in the rear, I received a wound 
from a cutlass on my side, the scar of whicb remains 
to this day. 

"As nearly all the guards were prostrated by our 
unexpected sally, we arrived at our destined place, 
without being pursued by anything but curses and 
threats. 

"The mate exercised his authority to protect us 
from the rage of the soldiers; who were in pursuit 
of us, as soon as they had recovered from the pros- 
tration into which they had been thrown; and, with 
the assistance of the Captain's mistress, whom the 
noise had brought upon deck, and whose sympathy 
was excited when she saw we were about to be 
murdered: she placed herself between us and the en- 
raged guard, and made such an outcry as to bring 
the Captain" (Laird) "up, who ordered the guard to 
take their station at a little distance and to watch us 
narrowly. We were all put in irons, our feet being 
fastened to a long bar, a guard placed over us, and 
in this situation we were left to pass the night. 

"During the time of the transactions related, our 
fellow prisoner, Putnam, remained quietly under the 
tub, and heard the noise from his hiding place. He 



American Prisoners of the RevoIvUtion 263 

was not suffered to remain long in suspense. A sol- 
dier lifted up the tub, and seeing the poor prisoner,, 
thrust his bayonet into his body, just above his hip,, 
and then drove him to the quarter-deck, to take his 
place in irons among us. The blood flowed profusely 
from his wound, and he was soon after sent on board 
the hospital ship, and we never heard anything re- 
specting him afterwards. 

"With disappointed expectations we passed a dreary 
night. A cold fog, followed by rain, came on; ta 
which we were exposed, without any blankets or 
covering to protect us from the inclemency of the 
weather. Our sufferings of mind and body during 
that horrible night, exceeded any that I have ever 
experienced. 

"We were chilled almost to death, and the only 
way we could preserve heat enough in our bodies to 
prevent our perishing, was to lie upon each other by 
turns. 

"Morning at last came, and we were released frorrfc 
our fetters. Our limbs were so stiff that we could 
hardly stand. Our fellow prisoners assisted us below,, 
and wrapping us in blankets, we were at last re- 
stored to a state of comparative comfort. 

"For attempting to escape we were punished by 
having our miserable allowance reduced one third 
in quantity for a month ; and we had found the whole 
of it hardly sufficient to sustain life. ^ ^ ^ 

"One day a boat came alongside containing about 
sixty firkins of grease, which they called butter. 
The prisoners were always ready to assist in the 
performance of any labor necessary to be done on 
board of the ship, as it afforded some little relief to 
the tedious monotony of their lives. On this oc- 



264 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

casion they were ready to assist in hoisting the butter 
on board. The firkins were first deposited upon the 
deck, and then lowered down the main hatchway. 
Some of the prisoners, who were the most officious 
in giving their assistance, contrived to secrete a 
firkin, by rolHng it forward under the forecastle, and 
afterwards carrying it below in their bedding. 

''This was considered as quite a windfall; and be- 
ing divided among a few of us, proved a considerable 
luxury. It helped to fill up the pores in our mouldy 
bread, when the worms were dislodged, and gave to 
the crumbling particles a little more consistency. 

"Several weeks after our unsuccessful attempt to 
escape, another one attended with better success, was 
made by a number of the prisoners. At sunset the 
prisoners were driven below, and the main hatchway 
was closed. In this there was a trap-door, large 
enough for a man to pass through, and a sentinel was 
placed over it with orders to permit one prisoner at 
a time to come up during the night. 

''The plan that had been formed was this : — one 
of the prisoners should ascend, and dispose of the 
sentinel in such a manner that he should be no ob- 
stacle in the way of those who were to follow. 

"Among the soldiers was an Irishman who, in con- 
sequence of having a head of hair remarkable for its 
curly appearance, and withal a very crabbed dispo- 
sition, had been nicknamed 'Billy the Ram'. He was 
the sentinel on duty this night, for one was deemed 
sufficient, as the prisoners were considered secure 
when they were below, having no other place of egress 
saving the trap-door, over which the sentinel was sta- 
tioned. 

"Late in the night one of the prisoners, a bold, 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 265 

athletic fellow, ascended upon deck, and in an artful 
manner engaged the attention of Billy the Ram, in 
conversation respecting the war; lamenting that he 
had engaged in so unnatural a contest, express- 
ing his intention of enlisting in the British service, 
and requesting Billy's advice respecting the course 
necessary to be pursued to obtain the confidence of 
the officers. 

"Billy happened to be in a mood to take some in- 
terest in his views, and showed an inclination, quite 
uncommon for him, to prolong the conversation. Un- 
suspicious of any evil design on the part of the pris- 
oner, and while leaning carelessly on his gun, Billy 
received a tremendous blow from the fist of his en- 
tertainer on the back of his head, which brought him 
to the deck in a state of insensibility. 

*'As soon as he was heard to fall by those below, 
who were anxiously awaiting the result of the 
friendly conversation of their pioneer with Billy, and 
were satisfied that the final knock-out argument had 
been given, they began to ascend, and, one after an- 
other, to jump overboard, to the number of about 
thirty. 

"The noise aroused the guard, who came upon 
deck, where they found Billy not sufficiently recov- 
ered from the stunning effects of the blow he had re- 
ceived to give any account of the transaction. A noise 
was heard in the water; but it was so dark that no 
object could be distinguished. The attention of the 
guard, however, was directed to certain spots which 
exhibited a luminous appearance, which salt water is 
known to assume in the night when it is agitated, and 
to these appearances they directed their fire, and get- 
ting out the boats, picked out about half the number 



266 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

that attempted to escape, many of whom were 
wounded, though not one v/as killed. The rest es- 
caped. 

"During the uproar overhead the prisoners below 
encouraged the fugitives, and expressed their ap- 
probation of their proceedings in three hearty cheers; 
for which gratification we suffered our usual punish- 
ment — a short allowance of our already short and 
miserable fare. 

"For about a fortnight after this transaction it 
would have been a hazardous experiment to approach 
near to 'Billy the Ram', and it was a long time before 
we ventured to speak to him, and finally to obtain 
from him an account of the events of the evening. 

"Not long after this another successful attempt to 
escape was made, which for its boldness is perhaps 
unparalleled in the history of such transactions. 

"One pleasant morning about ten o'clock a boat 
came alongside, containing a number of gentlemen 
from New York, who came for the purpose of grati- 
fying themselves with a sight of the miserable tenants 
of the prison-ship, influenced by the same kind of 
curiosity that induces some people to travel a great 
distance to witness an execution. 

"The boat, which was a beautiful yawl, and sat like 
a swan upon the water, was manned by four oarsmen, 
with a man at the helm. Considerable attention and 
respect was shown the visitors, the ship's side being 
manned when they showed their intention of coming 
on board, and the usual naval courtesies extended. 
The gentlemen were soon on board ; and the crew of 
the yawl, having secured her to the forechains on the 
larboard side of the ship, were permitted to ascend 
the deck. 



American Prisoners of the Revoi^ution 267 

"A soldier as usual was pacing with a slow and 
measured tread the whole length of the deck, wheel- 
ing round with measured precision, when he arrived 
at the end of his walk; and whether upon this oc- 
casion, any one interested in his movements had 
secretly slipped a guinea into his hand, not to quicken 
but to retard his progress, was never known; but it 
was evident to the prisoners that he had never occu- 
pied so much time before in measuring the distance 
with his back to the place where the yawl was 
fastened. 

''At this time there were sitting in the forecastle, 
apparently admiring the beautiful appearance of the 
yawl, four mates and a captain, who had been brought 
on board as prisoners a few days previous, taken in 
some vessel from a southern port. 

"As soon as the sentry had passed these men, in 
his straightforward march, they, in a very quiet 
manner, lowered themselves down into the yawl, cut 
the rope, and the four mates taking in hand the oars, 
while the captain managed the helm, in less time than 
I have taken to describe it, they were under full 
sweep from the ship. They plied the oars with such 
vigor that every stroke they took seemed to take the 
boat out of the water. In the meantime the sentry 
heard nothing and saw nothing of this transaction, 
till he had arrived at the end of his march, when, in 
wheeling slowly round, he could no longer affect 
ignorance, or avoid seeing that the boat was several 
times its length from the ship. He immediately fired ; 
but, whether he exercised his best skill as a marks- 
man, or whether it was on account of the boat's going 
ahead its whole length at every pull of the rowers, I 
could never exactly ascertain, but the ball fell harm- 



268 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

lessly into the water. The report of the gun brought 
the whole guard out, who blazed away at the fugitives, 
without producing any dimunition in the rapidity of 
their progress. 

"By this time the officers of the ship were on deck 
with their visitors ; and while all were gazing with as- 
tonishment at the boldness and effrontery of the 
achievement, the guard were firing as fast as they 
could load their guns. When the prisoners gave 
three cheers to the yawl's crew, as an expression 
of their joy at their success, the Captain ordered all 
of us to be driven below at the point of the bayonet, 
and there we were confined the remainder of the day. 

''These five men escaped, greatly to the mortifica- 
tion of the captain and officers of the prison-ship. 
After this, as long as I remained a prisoner, whenever 
any visitors came on board, all the prisoners were 
driven below, where they were obliged to remain till 
the company had departed. 



CHAPTER XXVII 

The Experience of Ebenezer Fox (Continued) 

ii'nr^HE miseries of our condition were continually 
X increasing. The pestilence on board spread 
rapidly ; and every day added to our bill of mortality. 
The young were its most frequent victims. The num- 
ber of the prisoners was constantly augmenting, not- 
withstanding the frequent and successful attempts to 
escape. When we were mustered and called upon to 
answer to our names, and it was ascertained that 
nearly two hundred had mysteriously disappeared, 
without leaving any information of their departure, 
the officers of the ship endeavored to make amends 
for their past remissness by increasing the rigor of 
our confinement, and depriving us of all hope of 
adopting any of the means for liberating ourselves 
from our cruel thralldom, so successfully practiced 
by many of our comrades. 

**With the hope that some relief might be obtained 
to meliorate the wretchedness of our situation, the 
prisoners petitioned General Clinton, commanding the 
British forces in New York, for permission to send 
a memorial to General Washington, describing our 
condition, and requesting his influence in our behalf, 
that some exchange of prisoners might be effected. 

^'Permission was obtained, and the memorial was 
sent. * * * General Washington wrote to Con- 
gress, and also to the British Commissary of Naval 
prisoners, remonstrating with him, deprecating the 
cruel treatment of the Americans, and threatening 
retaliation. 

"The long detention of American sailors on board 



270 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

of British prison-ships was to be attributed to the 
httle pains taken by our countrymen to retain British 
subjects who were taken prisoner on the ocean during 
the war. Our privateers captured many British sea- 
men, who, when wilHng to enHst in our service, as 
was generally the case, were received on board of our 
ships. Those who were brought into port were suf- 
fered to go at large; for in the impoverished condi- 
tion of the country, no state or town was willing to 
subject itself to the expence of maintaining prisoners 
in a state of confinement; they were permitted to 
provide for themselves. In this way the number of 
British seamen was too small for a regular and equal 
exchange. Thus the British seamen, after their cap- 
ture, enjoyed the blessings of liberty, the light of the 
sun, and the purity of the atmosphere, while the poor 
American sailors were compelled to drag out a mis- 
erable existence amid v/ant and distress, famine and 
pestilence. As every principle of justice and hu- 
manity was disregarded by the British in their treat- 
ment of the prisoners, so likewise was every moral 
and legal right violated in compelling them to enter 
into their service. 

"We had obtained some information in relation to 
an expected draught that would soon be made upon 
the prisoners to fill up a complement of men that 
were wanted for the service of his Majesty's fleet. 

''One day in the last part of August our fears for 
the dreaded event were realized. A British officer 
with a number of soldiers came on board. The pris- 
oners were all ordered on deck, placed on the larboard 
gangway, and marched in single file round to the 
quarter-deck, where the officers stood to inspect them, 
and select such ones as suited their fancies without 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 271 

any reference to the rights of the prisoners. * * * 
We continued to march round in solemn and mel- 
ancholy processsion, till they had selected from among 
our number about three hundred of the ablest, nearly 
all of whom were Americans, and they were directed 
to go below under a guard, to collect together what- 
ever things they wished to take belonging to them. 
They were then driven into the boats, waiting along- 
side, and left the prison ship, not to enjoy their 
freedom, but to be subjected to the iron despotism, 
and galling slavery of a British man-of-war; to waste 
their lives in a foreign service; and toil for masters 
whom they hated. Such, however, were the horrors 
of our situation as prisoners, and so small was the 
prospect of relief, that we almost envied the lot of 
those who left the ship to go into the service of the 
enemy. 

''That the reader may not think I have given an 
exaggerated account of our sufferings on board the 
Jersey, I will here introduce some facts related in the 
histories of the Revolutionary War. I introduce them 
as an apology for the course that I and many of my 
fellow citizens adopted to obtain temporar}^ relief 
from our sufferings. 

*'The prisoners captured by Sir William Howe in 
1776 amounted to several thousands. * * ^ ^he 
privates were confined in prisons, deserted churches, 
and other large open buildings, entirely unfit for the 
habitations of human beings, in severe winter weather, 
without any of the most ordinary comforts of life. 

"To the indelible and everlasting disgrace of the 
British name, these unfortunate victims of a barbarity 
more befitting savages than gentlemen belonging to a 
nation boasting itself to be the most enlightened and 



272 American Prisoners of the Revoi^ution 

civilized of the world, — many hundreds of them, 
perished from want of proper food and attention. 

''The cruelty of their inhuman jailors was not 
terminated by the death of these wretched men, as 
so little care was taken to remove the corpses that 
seven dead bodies have been seen at one time lying 
in one of the buildings in the midst of their living 
fellow-prisoners, who were perhaps envying them 
their release from misery. Their food * * * 
was generally that which was rejected by the British 
ships as unfit to be eaten by the sailors, and unwhole- 
some in the highest degree, as well as disgusting in 
taste and appearance. 

"In December, 1776, the American board of war, 
after procuring such evidence as convinced them of 
the truth of their statements, reported that: 'There 
were 900 privates and 300 officers of the American 
army, prisoners in the city of New York, and 500 
privates and 50 officers in Philadelphia. That since 
the beginning of October, all these officers and 
privates had been confined in prisons or in the prov- 
ost. That, from the best evidence the subject could 
admit of, the general allowance of the prisoners did 
not exceed four ounces of meat a day, and that often 
so damaged as to be uneatable. That it had been a 
common practice of the British to keep their prison- 
ers four or five days without a morsel of meat and 
thus tempt them to enlist to save their lives.' 

"Many were actually starved to death, in hope of 
making them enroll themselves in the British army. 
The American sailors when captured suffered even 
more than the soldiers, for they were confined on 
board prison ships in great numbers, and in a manner 
which showed that the British officers were willing 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 273 

to treat fellow beings, whose only crime was love of 
liberty, worse than the vilest animals; and indeed in 
every respect, with as much cruelty as is endured by 
the miserable inhabitants of the worst class of slave 
ships. * * * In the course of the war it has been 
asserted on good evidence, that 11,000 prisoners died 
on board the Jersey. * * * These unfortunate be- 
ings died in agony in the midst of their fellow suf- 
ferers, who were obliged to witness their tortures, 
without the power of relieving their dying country- 
men, even by cooling their parched lips with a drop 
of cold water, or a breath of fresh air; and, when the 
last breath had left the emaciated body, they some- 
times remained for hours in close contact with the 
corpse, without room to shrink from companions that 
Death had made so horrible, and when at last the 
dead were removed, they were sent in boats to the 
shore, and so imperfectly buried that long after the 
war was ended, their bones lay whitening in the 
sun on the beach of Long Island, a lasting memorial 
of British cruelty, so entirely unwarranted by all the 
laws of war or even common humanity. 

"They could not even pretend that they were re- 
taliating, for the Americans invariably treated their 
prisoners with kindness, and as though they were 
fellow men. All the time that these cruelties were 
performed those who were deprived of every com- 
fort and necessary were constantly entreated to leave 
the American service, and induced to believe, while 
kept from all knowledge of public affairs, that the re- 
publican cause was hopeless; that all engaged in it 
would meet the punishment of traitors to the king, 
and that all their prospect of saving their lives, or 
escaping from an imprisonment worse than death to 
—18 



274 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

young and high-spirited men, as most of them were, 
would be in joining the British army, where they 
would be sure of good pay and quick promotion. 

"These were the means employed by our enemies 
to increase their own forces, and discourage the 
patriots, and it is not strange they were successful 
in many instances. High sentiments of honor could 
not well exist in the poor, half-famished prisoners, 
who were denied even water to quench their thirst, 
or the privilege of breathing fresh, pure air, and 
cramped, day after day, in a space too small to admit 
of exercising their weary limbs, with the fear of 
wasting their lives in a captivity, which could not 
serve their country, nor gain honor to themselves. 

''But worse than all was the mortifying considera- 
tion that, after they had suffered for the love of their 
country, more than sailors in active service, they 
might die in these horrible places, and be laid with 
their countrymen on the shores of Long Island, or 
some equally exposed spot, without the rites of burial, 
and their names never be heard of by those who, in 
future ages, would look back to the roll of patriots, 
who died in defence of liberty, with admiration and 
respect, while, on the contrary, by dissembling for a 
time, they might be able to regain a place in the 
service so dear to them, and in which they were ready 
to endure any hardship or encounter any danger. 

"Of all the prisons, on land or water, for the con- 
finement of the Americans, during the Revolutionary 
War, the Old Jersey was acknowledged to be the 
worst; such an accumulation of horrors was not to 
be found in any other one, or perhaps in all col- 
lectively. 

"The very name of it struck terror into the sailor's 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 275 

heart, and caused him to fight more desperately, to 
avoid being made a captive. Suffering as we did, day 
after day, with no prospect of relief, our numbers 
continually augmenting, * * * can it be thought 
strange that the younger part of the prisoners, to 
whom confinement seemed worse than death, should 
be tempted to enlist into the British service ; especially 
when, by so doing, it was probable that some oppor- 
tunity would be offered to desert? We were satisfied 
that death would soon put an end to our sufferings if 
we remained prisoners much longer, yet when we dis- 
cussed the expediency of seeking a change in our con- 
dition, which we were satisfied could not be worse 
under any circumstances, and it was proposed that we 
should enter the service of King George, our minds 
revolted at the idea, and we abandoned the intention. 

"In the midst of our distresses, perplexities, and 
troubles of this period, we were not a little puzzled 
to know how to dispose of the vermin that would ac- 
cumulate upon our persons, notwithstanding all our at- 
tempts at cleanliness. To catch them was a very easy 
task, but to undertake to deprive each individual cap- 
tive of life, as rapidly as they could have been taken, 
would have been a more herculean task for each in- 
dividual daily, than the destruction of 3000 Philistines 
by Sampson of old. To throw them overboard would 
have been but a small relief, as they would probably 
add to the impurities of the boiler, by being deposited 
in it the first time it was filled up for cooking our un- 
savory mess. What then was to be done with them? 
A general consultation was held, and it was deter- 
mined to deprive them of their liberty. This being 
agreed upon, the prisoners immediately went to work, 
for their comfort and amusement, to make a liberal 



276 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

contribution of those migratory creatures, who were 
compelled to colonize for a time within the boundaries 
of a large snuff box appropriated for the purpose. 
There they lay, snugly ensconced, of all colors, ages, 
and sizes, to the amount of some hundreds, waiting 
for orders. 

."British recruiting officers frequently came on board, 
and held out to the prisoners tempting offers to en- 
list in his Majesty's service; not to fight against their 
own country, but to perform garrison duty in the is- 
land of Jamaica. 

"One day an Irish officer came on board for this 
purpose, and not meeting with much success among 
the prisoners who happened to be on deck, he de- 
scended below to repeat his offers. He was a remark- 
ably tall man, and was obliged to stoop as he passed 
along between decks. The prisoners were disposed 
for a frolic, and kept the officer in their company for 
some time, flattering him with expectations, till he dis- 
covered their insincerity, and left them in no very 
pleasant humor. As he passed along, bending his body 
and bringing his broad shoulders to nearly a horizontal 
position, the idea occurred to our minds to furnish 
him with some recruits from the colony in the snuff 
box. A favorable opportunity presented, the cover 
of the box was removed, and the whole contents dis- 
charged upon the red-coated back of the officer. Three 
cheers from the prisoners followed the migration, and 
the officer ascended to the deck, unconscious of the 
number and variety of the recruits he had obtained 
without the formality of an enlistment. The captain 
of the ship, suspecting that some joke had been prac- 
tised, or some mischief perpetrated, from the noise 
below, met the officer at the head of the gangway, and 



American Prisoners of the Revoi^ution 277 

seeing the vermin crawling up his shoulders, and aim- 
ing at his head, with the instinct peculiar to them, ex- 
claimed, ^Hoot mon ! what's the maitter wi' your back V 
* * * By this time many of them in their wander- 
ings, had travelled from the rear to the front, and 
showed themselves, to the astonishment of the officer. 
He flung off his coat, in a paroxysm of rage, which 
was not allayed by three cheers from the prisoners 
on deck. Confinement below, with a short allowance, 
was our punishment for this gratification. 

"From some information we had obtained we were 
in daily expectation of a visit from the British re- 
cruiting officers, and from the summary method of 
their procedure, no one felt safe from the danger of 
being forced into their service. Many of the prisoners 
thought it would be better to enlist voluntarily, as it 
was probable that afterwards they would be permitted 
to remain on Long Island, preparatory to their de- 
parture to the West Indies, and during that time some 
opportunity would be offered for their escape to the 
Jersey shore. * * * Soon after we had formed 
this desperate resolve a recruiting officer came on 
board to enlist men for the 88th Regiment to be sta- 
tioned at Kingston, in the island of Jamaica. * * * 
The recruiting officer presented his papers for our 
signature. We hesitated, we stared at each other, and 
felt we were about to do a deed of which we were 
ashamed, and which we might regret. Again we heard 
the tempting offers, and again the assurance that we 
should not be called upon to fight against our govern- 
ment or country, and with the hope that we should 
find an opportunity to desert, of which it was our 
firm intention to avail ourselves when offered, — with 



278 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

such hopes, expectations, and motives, we signed the 
papers, and became soldiers in his Majesty's service. 

"How often did we afterwards lament that we had 
ever lived to see this hour? How often did we re- 
gret that we were not in our wretched prison ship 
again, or buried in the sand at the Wallabout!" 

There were twelve of the prisoners who left the 
Jersey with Ebenezer Fox. They were at first taken 
to Long Island and lodged in barns, but so vigilantly 
were they guarded that they found it impossible to 
escape. They were all sent to Kingston, and Fox was 
allowed to resume his occupation as a barber, much 
patronized by the officers stationed at that post. He 
was soon allowed the freedom of the city, and fur- 
nished with a pass to go about it as much as 
he wished. At last, in company with four other 
Americans, he escaped, and after many adventures 
the party succeeded in reaching Cuba, by means of a 
small sailing boat which they pressed into service for 
that purpose. From Cuba they took passage in a 
small vessel for St. Domingo, and dropped anchor 
at Cape Francois, afterwards called Cape Henri. 
There they went on board the American frigate. Flora, 
of 32 guns, commanded by Captain Henry Johnson, 
of Boston. 

The vessel soon sailed for France and took several 
prizes. It finally went up the Garonne to Bordeaux, 
where it remained nine months. In the harbor of 
Bordeaux were about six hundred vessels bearing 
the flags of various nations. Here they remained un- 
til peace was proclaimed, when Fox procured service 
on board an American brig lying at Nantes, and set 
sail for home in April, 1783. 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 279 

At length he again reached his mother's house at 
Roxbury, after an absence of about three years. His 
mother, at first, did not recognize him. She enter- 
tained him as a stranger, until he made himself 
known, and then her joy was great, for she had long 
mourned him as lost. 



CHAPTER XXVIII 
The Case of Christopher Hawkins 

CHRISTOPHER Hawkins was born in Provi- 
dence, Rhode Island, in 1764. When he was in 
his thirteenth year he sailed on board an American 
privateer as a cabin boy. The privateer was a 
schooner, called the Eagle, commanded by Captain 
Potter. Taken prisoner by the British, Hawkins was 
sent on board the Asia, an old transport ship, but was 
soon taken off this vessel, then used for the confine- 
m.ent of American prisoners, and sent on board a frig- 
ate, the Maidstone, to serve as a waiter to the British 
officers on board. He remained on board the Maid- 
stone a year. At the end of that time he was allowed 
a good deal of liberty. He and another boy were sent 
on shore to New York with a message, managed to 
elude the sentinels, and escaped first to Long Island, 
and afterwards returned home to Providence. 

About 1781 he again went on board a privateer un- 
der Captain Whipple, was again captured, and this 
time he was sent to the Jersey. He describes the con- 
dition of the prisoners on their way in a transport to 
this fearful prison ship. They were so crowded to- 
gether that they could scarcely move, yet they all 
joined in singing a patriotic song every stanza of 
which ended with the words : 

"For America and all her sons forever will shine!" 

They were on board this transport three or four days 
unable to sit or lie down for want of room. When 
at last they reached the Jersey they found 800 pris- 
oners on board. Many of these poor wretches would 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 281 

become sick in the night and die before day. Haw- 
kins was obhged to he down to rest only twenty feet 
from the gangway, and in the path of the prisoners 
who would run over him to get on the upper deck. He 
describes the condition of these men as appalhng. 

"Near us," he writes, ''was a guard ship and hos- 
pital ship, and along the shore a line of sentinels at 
regular intervals." 

Yet he determined to escape. Many did so; and 
many were murdered in the attempt. A mess of six 
had just met a dreadful fate. One of them became 
terrified and exclaimed as soon as he touched the 
water, "O Lord, I shall be drowned!" The guard 
turned out, and murdered five of the poor wretches. 
The sixth managed to hide, and held on by the flukes 
of the anchor with nothing but his nose above water. 
Early in the morning he climbed up the anchor over 
the bow of the ship to the forecastle, and fled below. 
A boy named Waterman and Hawkins determined to 
drop through a port-hole, and endeavor to reach Long 
Island by swimming. He thus describes the adven- 
ture: 

"The thunder-storm was opportune to our design, 
for having previously obtained from the cook's room 
an old axe and crow-bar from the upper deck for the 
purpose, we concealed them till an opportunity should 
offer for their use. We took advantage of the peals 
of thunder in a storm that came over us in the after- 
noon to break one of the gun ports on the lower deck, 
which was strongly barred with iron and bolts. 
* * * When a peal of thunder roared we worked 
with all our might with the axe and crow-bar against 
the bars and bolts. When the peals subsided we ceased, 
without our blows being heard by the British, until 



282 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

another peal commenced. We then went to work 
again, and so on, until our work was completed to 
our liking. The bars and bolts, after we had knocked 
them loose, were replaced so as not to draw the atten- 
tion of our British gentry if they should happen to 
visit the lower deck before our departure. We also 
hung some old apparel over and around the shattered 
gunport to conceal any marks. 

"Being thus and otherwise prepared for our es- 
cape, the ship was visited by our Captain Whipple 
the next day after we had broken the gun-port. To 
him we communicated our intention and contemplated 
means of escape. He strongly remonstrated against 
the design. We told him we should start the ensuing 
evening. Captain Whipple answered: 

"'How do you think of escaping?' 

"I answered, 'By swimming to that point,' at the 
same time pointing to a place then in our view on 
Long Island, in a northeasterly direction from the 
prison ship. We must do this to avoid the sentinels 
who were stationed in the neighborhood of the ship. 

" 'What !' said Captain Whipple, 'Do you think of 
swimming to that point?' 

" 'Yes, we must, to avoid the sentinels,' I answered. 

" 'Well,' said Captain Whipple, 'Give it up. It is 
only throwing your lives away, for there is not a man 
on earth who can swim from this ship to that point 
as cold as the water is now. Why, how far do you 
think it is?' 

" 'Why,' I answered, 'Waterman and myself have 
estimated the distance at a mile and a half.' 

" 'Yes,' said he, 'It's all of two and a half miles. 
You cannot measure across as well as I can. So you 
had better give it up, for I have encouragement of 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 283 

getting home next week, and if I do, I will make it 
my whole business to get you all exchanged immedi- 
ately.' 

"Altho' Waterman was several years my senior in 
age, the conversation was carried on between Cap- 
tain Whipple and myself for the reason that Captain 
W. was more acquainted with me than with Water- 
man, but Waterman was present." (Captain Whipple 
was captured five times during the Revolution, each 
time on his own vessel.) 

''His advice had great weight on our minds, but did 
not shake our purpose. We had not been on board 
the Old Jersey more than one hour before we began 
to plot our escape. We had been only three days on 
board when we left it forever. We had been on 
board long enough to discover the awful scenes which 
took place daily in this 'floating hell.' 

"Our preparations for leaving were completed by 
procuring a piece of rope from an old cable that was 
stretched under the fo'castle of the ship, * ^ ^ 
and wound around the cable to preserve it. We had 
each of us packed our wearing apparel in a knapsack 
for each, made on board the Old Jersey. I gave some 
of my apparel to the two Smiths. I stowed in my 
knapsack a thick woolen sailor jacket, well lined, a 
pair of thick pantaloons, one vest, a pair of heavy 
silver shoe buckles, two silk handkerchiefs, four sil- 
ver dollars, not forgetting a junk bottle of rum, which 
we had purchased on board at a dear rate. Water- 
man had stowed his apparel and other articles in 
his knapsack. Mine was very heavy. It was fast- 
ened to my back with two very strong garters, pass- 
ing over my shoulders, and under each arm, and fast- 
ened with a string to my breast, bringing my right 
and left garter in contact near the centre. 



284 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

"Thus equipt we were ready to commit ourselves 
to the watery element, and to our graves, as many of 
our hardy fellow prisoners predicted. The evening 
was as good an one as we could desire at that season 
of the year, the weather was mild and hazy, and the 
night extremely dark. 

*'It was arranged between Waterman and myself 
that after leaving the ship we should be governed in 
our course by the lights on board the ships and the 
responses of the sentinels on shore, and after arriv- 
ing on shore to repair near a dwelling house which 
we could see from the Old Jersey in the day time, 
and spend the balance of the night in a barn, but a 
few rods from the dwelling. 

''Waterman was the first to leave the ship through 
the broken-open gun-port, and suspended to the rope 
by his hands, and at the end behind him (it was 
held) by several of our fellow prisoners whom we 
were leaving behind us, and with whom we affection- 
ately parted with reciprocal good wishes. He suc- 
ceeded in gaining the water and in leaving the ship 
without discovery from the British. It had been 
agreed, if detection was about to take place, that he 
should be received again into the ship. I had agreed 
to follow him in one minute in the same manner. I 
left and followed in half that time, and succeeded in 
leaving the ship without giving the least alarm to 
those who had held us in captivity. 

''I kept along close to the side of the ship until I 
gained the stern, and then left the ship. This was 
all done very slowly, sinking my body as deep in the 
water as possible, without stopping my course, until 
I was at such a distance from her that my motions 
in the water would not create attention from those on 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 285 

board. After gaining a suitable distance from the 
ship, I hailed Waterman three times. He did not 
answer me. * * * I have never seen him since he 
left the Old Jersey to this day. His fate and success 
I have since learned from James Waterman, one of 
his brothers. 

*'In the meantime I kept on my course without 
thinking that any accident would befall him, as I 
knew him to be an excellent swimmer, and no faint- 
hearted or timid fellow. 

"I could take my course very well from the light 
reflected from the stern lanthorns of the prison, 
guards, and hospital ships, and also from the re- 
sponses of the sentinels on shore; in the words, 'All's 
well.' These responses were repeated every half hour 
on board the guard ship, and by the sentinels. 

* * * These repetitions served me to keep the 
time I was employed in reaching the shore; — no ob- 
ject occupied my mind during this time so much as 
my friend Waterman, if I may except my own success 
in getting to land in safety. 

"I flattered myself I should find him on shore or at 
the barn we had agreed to occupy after we might 
gain it. After I had been swimming nearly or quite 
two hours my knapsack had broken loose from my 
back, from the wearing off of the garters under my 
arms, in consequence of the friction in swimming. 

* * * This occurrence did not please me much. 
I endeavored to retain my knapsack by putting it 
under one arm, * * * but soon found that this 
impeded my progress, and led me from my true 
course. * * >}= gy ^j^jg time I had become much 
chilled, and benumbed from cold, but could swim 
tolerably well. * * >i^ I hesitated whether or not 



286 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

to retain my knapsack longer in my possession, or 
part from it forever, I soon determined on the latter, 
and sent it adrift. In this balancing state of mind 
and subsequent decision I was cool and self col- 
lected as perhaps at any time in my life. * * * 
I now soon found I was close in with the shore. 
* * * I swam within twelve feet of the shore 
before I could touch bottom, and in so doing I found 
I could not stand, I was so cold =5^ * * j^y^ j nioved 
around in shoal water until I found I could stand, 
then stept on shore. * * * j had not sent my 
clothes adrift more than twenty-five minutes or so 
before striking the shore. I was completely naked 
except for a small hat on my head which I had 
brought from the Old Jersey. What a situation was 
this, without covering to hide my naked body, in an 
enemy's country, without food or means to obtain 
any, and among Tories more unrelenting than the 
devil, — more perils to encounter and nothing to aid 
me but the interposition of heaven! Yet I had gained 
an important portion of my enterprise: I had got on 
land, after swimming in the water two hours and a 
half, and a distance of perhaps two miles and a half." 
Hawkins at last found the barn and slept in it 
the rest of the night, but not before falling over a 
rock in the darkness, and bruising his naked body 
severely. Next morning a black girl came into the 
barn, apparently hunting for eggs, but he did not 
dare reveal himself to her. He remained there all 
day, and endeavored to milk the cows, but they were 
afraid of a naked stranger. He left the place in 
the night and travelled east. In a field he found 
some overripe water melons, but they were neither 
wholesome nor palatable. After wandering a long 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 287 

time in the rain he came to another barn, and in it 
he slept soundly until late the next day. Nearly 
famished he again wandered on and found in an 
orchard a few half rotten pears. Near by was a 
potato patch which he entered hoping to get some of 
them. Here a young woman, who had been stooping 
down digging potatoes, started up. "I was, of course," 
he continues, "naked, my head excepted. She was, 
or appeared to be, excessively frightened, and ran 
towards a house, screeching and screaming at every 
step." Hawkins ran in the other direction, and got 
safely away. At last the poor boy found another barn, 
and lay, that night, upon a heap of flax. After sun- 
rise next morning he concluded to go on his way. 
"I could see the farmers at their labor in the fields. 
I then concluded to still keep on my course, and go 
to some of these people then in sight. I was, by this 
time, almost worn out with hunger. I slowly ap- 
proached two tall young men who were gathering 
garden sauce. They soon discovered me and ap- 
peared astonished at my appearance, and began to 
draw away from me, but I spoke to them in the fol- 
lowing words : — 'Don't be afraid of me : I am a 
human being!' They then made a halt and inquired 
of me, 'Are you scared?' 'No,' said I. They then ad- 
vanced slowly towards me, and inquired, 'How came 
you here naked?' 

"I seated myself on the ground and told them the 
truth." 

One of the young men told him to conceal himself 
from the sight of the neighbors, and he would go 
and consult with his mother what had best be done. 
He soon returned, bringing two large pieces of bread 
and butter and a decent pair of pantaloons. He then 



288 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

told him to go to the side of the barn and wait there 
for his mother, but not to allow himself to be seen. 
The boys' mother came out to speak to him with a 
shirt on her arm. As he incautiously moved around 
the side of the barn to meet her, she exclaimed, "For 
God's sake don't let that black woman see you!" A 
slave was washing clothes near the back door of the 
farm house. The poor woman explained to Hawkins 
that this negress would betray him, "For she is as 
big a devil as any of the king's folks, and she will 
bring me out, and then we should all be put in the 
provost and die there, for my husband was put there 
more than two years ago, and rotted and died there 
not more than two weeks since." 

The poor woman wept as she told her story, and the 
escaped prisoner wept with her. This woman and 
her two sons were Dutch, and their house was only 
nine miles from Brooklyn ferry. She now directed 
the boy to a house at Oyster Bay where she said 
there was a man who would assist him to escape. 

After running many risks he found the house at 
last, but the woman who answered his knock told 
him that her husband was away and when he ex- 
plained who he was she became very angry, and said 
that it was her duty to give him up. So he ran away 
from her, and at last fell into the hands of a party 
of British, who recaptured him, and declared that 
they would send him immediately back to the prison 
ship. They were quartered in a house near Oyster 
Bay, and here they locked him in a room, and he 
was told to lie down on some straw to sleep, as it 
was now night. In the night the fleas troubled him 
so much that he was very restless. A sentinel had 
been placed to guard him, and when this wretch heard 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 289 

him moving in the dark he exclaimed, "Lie still, 
G — d — you," and pricked him several times with 
his bayonet, so that the poor boy felt the fresh blood 
running down his body. He begged the sentinel to 
spare his life, declaring that it was hard he should 
be killed merely because the fleas had made him rest- 
less. He now did not dare to move, and was obliged 
to endure the attacks the fleas and the stiffness of 
his wounds in perfect silence until the sentinel was 
relieved. The next sentinel was kind and humane 
and seemed to compassionate his sufferings. He said 
that some men were natural brutes, and seemed to 
take an interest in the boy, but could do little for him. 
At daylight he was sent to the quarters of a Tory 
colonel a mile from the guard room. The colonel 
was a tall man of fine appearance, who examined him, 
and then said he must be sent back to the Jersey. 
The poor lad was now left in an unlocked room on the 
ground floor of the colonel's house. He was given 
his breakfast, and a mulatto man was set to guard 
him. Now there was a pantry opening into this 
room, and a negro girl, who appeared very friendly 
with the mulatto, called him to eat his breakfast in 
this pantry. The mulatto, while eating, would look 
out every few minutes. Just after one of these in- 
spections the boy got up softly, with his shoes in his 
hands, stepped across the room, out at the back door, 
and concealed himself in a patch of standing hemp. 
From thence he made his way into an orchard, and 
out into a wood lot. Here he hid himself and re- 
mained quiet for several hours, and although he 
heard several persons talking near him, he was not 
pursued. At last he stole out, walked about six miles, 
and at night fall entered a barn and slept there. He 
—19 



290 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

was in rather better case than before his recapture, 
for a doctor belonging to the British service had 
taken pity on him the night before, and had furnished 
him with warm clothes, shoes, and a little money. 

Next morning a woman who lived in a small house 
near the road gave him some bread and milk. The 
time of the year was autumn, it was a day or two 
before Cornwallis's surrender at Yorktown. He now 
very fortunately met an acquaintance named Captain 
Daniel Havens. He was an uncle of a boy named 
John Sawyer, with whom young Hawkins -had run 
away from New York some years before. Through 
the agency of this old friend Hawkins got on board 
a smuggler in the night and finally reached home in 
safety. 

Christopher Hawkins's account of the Old Jersey is 
not so reliable as that of some others who were among 
her inmates. He was only on board that vessel three 
days, but in that time he saw enough to decide him 
to risk death in the attempt to escape rather than re- 
main any longer on board of her. He declares that: 
''The cruel and unjustifiable treatment of the pris- 
oners by the British soon produced the most de- 
moralizing effects upon them. Boxing was tolerated 
without stint. * * * After I left the ship an 
American vessel came into the port of New York 
as a cartel for the exchange of prisoners. * * * 
A ship's mate was so fortunate as to be one of the 
exchanged. He had a large chest on board, and, as 
privately as he could, he put the cabin boy into the 
chest, locked him in, and carried him on board the 
cartel. A prisoner named Spicer had seen the boy 
put into the chest, and after he had been conveyed 
on board the cartel, Spicer communicated the affair 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 291 

to the commanding officer on board the Jersey. The 
cartel was immediately boarded, as she had not yet 
left the port, and the boy was found and brought back. 
Spicer paid for his treachery with his life. The pris- 
oners knocked him down the hatchway, when they 
were going down for the night; they then fell upon 
him, cut off his ears, and mangled him in a shocking 
manner, so that he died in a day or two." 

This event occured after he left the ship, according 
to his own narrative. The same story is told in a dif- 
ferent way by an eye witness of undoubted veracity. 
He says that the prisoners were so incensed against 
Spicer that they determined to kill him. For this 
purpose some of them held him, while another was 
about to cut his throat, when the guards, hearing the 
uproar, rushed down the hatchway, and rescued him. 

Hawkins also says: "I one day observed a pris- 
oner on the forecastle of the ship, with his shirt in 
his hands, having stripped it from his body, de- 
liberately picking the vermin from the pleats and put- 
ting them in his mouth. * * * i stepped very 
near the man and commenced a conversation with 
him. He said he had been on board two years and 
a half, or eighteen months. He had completely lost 
count of time, was a skeleton and nearly naked. This 
was only one case from perhaps a hundred similar. 
This man appeared in tolerable health as to body, 
his emaciation excepted. * * * The discipline of 
the prisoners by the British was in many respects of 
the most shocking and appalling character. The roll of 
the prisoners, as I was informed, was called every three 
months, unless a large acquisiton of prisoners should 
render it necessary more often. The next day after 
our crew were put on board the roll was called, and 



292 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

the police regulations of the ship were read. I heard 
this. One of the new regulations was to the effect 
that every captive trying to get away should suffer 
instant death, and should not even be taken on board 
alive." 

It appears that David Laird commanded the Old 
Jersey from 1778 until early in the year 1781. He 
was then relieved of the command, and this office was 
given to a man named John Sporne, or Spohn, until 
the 9th of April, 1783, when all the prisoners remain- 
ing in her were released, and she was abandoned. The 
dread of contagion kept visitors aloof. She was still 
moored in the mud of the Wallabout by chain cables, 
and gradually sank lower and lower. There is a beam 
of her preserved as a curiosity at the Naval Museum 
at Brooklyn. 

David Laird, the Scotchman who commanded her 
until the early part of 1781, returned to New York 
after the peace of 1783 as captain of a merchant ship, 
and moored his vessel at or near Peck's Slip. A 
number of persons who had been prisoners on board 
the Jersey, and had suffered by his cruelty, assembled 
on the wharf to receive him, but he deemed it prudent 
to remain on ship-board during the short time his 
vessel was there. 

It is in the recollections of Ebenezer Fox that we 
have the only mention ever made of a woman on 
board that dreadful place, the Old Jersey, and al- 
though she may have been and probably was an 
abandoned character, yet she seems to have been 
merciful, and unwilling to see the prisoners who were 
attempting to escape, butchered before her eyes. It 
is indeed to be hoped that no other woman ever set 
foot in that terrible place to suffer with the prison- 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 293 

ers, and yet there are a few women's names in the 
list of these wretched creatures given in the appendix 
to this book. It is most Hkely, however, that these 
were men, and that their feminine appellations were 
nicknames.* 

*One is named Nancy and one Bella, etc. 



CHAPTER XXIX 
Testimony of Prisoners on Board the Jersey 

WE MUST again quote from Ebenezer Fox, 
whose description of the provisions dealt out 
to the prisoners on board the prison ships shall now 
be given. 

"The prisoners received their mess rations at nine 
in the morning. * * * ^\\ q^j. food appeared to 
be damaged. The bread was mostly mouldy, and 
filled with worms. It required considerable rapping 
upon the deck, before these worms could be dislodged 
from their lurking places in a biscuit. As for the 
pork, we were cheated out of it more than half the 
time, and when it was obtained one would have 
judged from its motley hues, exhibiting the con- 
sistence and appearance of variegated soap, that it 
was the flesh of the porpoise or sea hog, and had been 
an inhabitant of the ocean, rather than a sty. 

* * * The flavor was so unsavory that it would 
have been rejected as unfit for the stuffing of even 
Bologna sausages. The provisions were generally 
damaged, and from the imperfect manner in which they 
were cooked were about as indigestible as grape shot. 
The flour and oatmeal was often sour, and when the 
suet was mixed with the flour it might be nosed half 
the length of the ship. The first view of the beef 
would excite an idea of veneration for its antiquity, 

* * * its color was a dark mahagony, and its 
solidity would have set the keenest edge of a broad 
axe at defiance to cut across the grain, though like 
oakum it could be pulled to pieces, one way, in 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 295 

strings, like rope yarn. "^ * * It was so com- 
pletely saturated with salt that after having been 
boiled in water taken from the sea, it was found to 
be considerably freshened by the process. * * * 
Such was our food, but the quality was not all of 
which we had to complain. * * * Xhe cooking 
was done in a great copper vessel. * * * The 
Jersey, from her size, and lying near the shore, was 
embedded in the mud, and I don't recollect seeing, 
her afloat the whole time I was a prisoner. All the 
filth that accumulated among upwards of a thousand 
men was daily thrown overboard, and would remain 
there until carried away by the tide. The impurity 
of the water may be easily conceived, and in that 
water our meat was boiled. It will be recollected, too, 
that the water was salt, which caused the inside of 
the copper to be corroded to such a degree that it 
was lined with a coat of verdigris. Meat thus cooked 
must, in some degree, be poisoned, and the effects of 
it were manifest in the cadaverous countenances of 
the emaciated beings who had remained on board for 
any length of time. 

"* * * We passed the night amid the ac- 
cumulated horrors of sighs and groans; of foul 
vapor ; a nauseous and putrid atmosphere, in a stifling 
and almost suffocating heat. * h« * Little sleep 
could be enjoyed, for the vermin were so horribly 
abundant that all the personal cleanliness we could 
practice would not protect us from their attacks." 

The public papers of the day often contained ac- 
counts of the cruelties practiced upon the prisoners 
on the ships. In the Pennsylvania Packet of Sept. 
4th, 1781, there is an extract from a letter written by 
a prisoner whose name is not given. 



296 American Prisoners of the Revolution 



EXTRACT FROM A LETTER DATED ON BOARD THE JERSEY 

(vulgarly called hell) prison ship 

''New York August 10th 1781 
"There is nothing but death or entering into the 
British service before me. Our ship's company is 
reduced by death and entering into the British service 
to the small number ofl9. * * * I am not able 
to give you even the outlines of my exile; but this 
much I will inform you, that we bury 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 
and 11 in a day. We have 200 more sick and falling 
sick every day; the sickness is the yellow fever, small 
pox, and in short everything else that can be men- 
tioned." 

"New London. Conn. March 3rd. 1782. Sunday last 
a flag ship returned from New York which brought 
twenty Americans who had been a long time on 
board a prison ship. About 1,000 of our countrymen 
remain in the prison ships at New York, great part of 
whom have been in close confinement for more than 
six months, and in the most deplorable condition: 
many of them seeing no prospect of release are enter- 
ing into the British service to elude the contagion with 
which the ships are fraught." 

extract of a letter written on board the prison 

SHIP JERSEY, APRIL 26tH, 1782. 

"I am sorry to write you from this miserable 
place. I can assure you that since I have been here 
we have had only twenty men exchanged, although 
we are in number upwards of 700, exclusive of the 
sick in the Hospital ships, who died like sheep ; there- 
fore my intention is, if possible, to enter on board 
some merchant or transport vessel, as it is impossible 
for so many men to keep alive in one vessel." 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 297 

"Providence. May 25th 1782. Sunday last a flag 
of truce returned here from New York and brought 
a few prisoners. We learn that 1100 Americans were 
on board the prison and hospital ships at New York, 
when the flag sailed from thence, and that from six 
to seven were generally buried every day." 

''Salem. Mass. Extract from a letter of an officer 
on board the Jersey. — 'The deplorable situation I 
am in cannot be expressed. The captains, lieutenants, 
and sailing masters have gone to the Provost, but they 
have only gotten out of the frying pan into the fire. 
I am left here with about 700 miserable objects, eaten 
up by lice, and daily taking fevers, which carry them 
off fast. Nov 9th 1782." 

By repeated acts of cruelty on the part of the 
British the Americans were, at last, stung to attempt 
something like retaliation. In 1782 a prison ship, 
given that name, was fitted up and stationed in the 
Thames near New London, as we learn from the fol- 
lowing extract: 

"New London, Conn. May 24th 1782. Last Satur- 
day the Retaliation prison ship was safely moored in 
the river Thames, about a mile from the ferry, for 
the receipt of such British prisoners as may fall into 
our hands, since which about 100 prisoners have been 
put on board." 

It is said that this ship was in use but a short time, 
and we have been unable to learn anything further 
of her history. 

Thomas Philbrook, who was a prisoner on board 
the Jersey for several months was one of the "work- 
ing-party," whose duty it was to scrub the decks, at- 
tend to the sick, and bring up the dead. He says! 
i "As the morning dawned there would be heard the 



298 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

loud, unfeeling, and horrid cry, 'Rebels! Bring up 
your dead!' 

"Staggering under the weight of some stark, still 
form, I would at length gain the upper deck, when I 
would be met with the salutation: 'What! you alive 
yet? Well, you are a tough one!' " 



CHAPTER XXX 
Recollections of Andrew Sherburne 

ANDREW Sherburne, a lad of seventeen, shipped 
on the Scorpion, Captain R. Salter, a small 
vessel, with a crew of eighteen men. This vessel was 
captured by the Amphion, about the middle of 
November, 1782. Sherburne says that the sailors 
plundered them of everything they possessed, and that 
thirteen of them were put on board the Amphion, and 
sent down to the cable tiers between the two decks, 
where they found nearly a hundred of their country- 
men, who were prisoners of war. 

"We were very much crowded, and having nothing 
but the cables to lay on, our beds were as hard and 
unpleasant as though they were made of cord wood, 
and indeed we had not sufficient room for each to 
stretch himself at the same time. 

"After about two weeks we arrived at New York, 
and were put on board that wretched ship the Jersey. 
The New York prison ships had been the terror of 
American tars for years. The Old Jersey had become 
notorious in consequence of the unparallelled mor- 
tality on board her. * ^ * 

"I entered the Jersey towards the last of November, 
I had just entered the eighteenth year of my age, and 
had now to commence a scene of suffering almost 
without a parallel. * * * A large proportion of 
the prisoners had been robbed of their clothing. 
* * * Early in the winter the British took the 
Chesapeake frigate of about thirty guns, and 300 
hands. All were sent on board the Jersey, which so 
overcrowded her, that she was very sickly. This crew 



300 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

died exceedingly fast, for a large proportion were 
fresh hands, unused to the sea." 

Sherburne says that boats from the city brought 
provisions to sell to such of the prisoners as were so 
fortunate as to be possessed of money, and that most 
of them were able to make purchases from them. A 
piece of sausage from seven to nine inches long sold 
for sixpence. 

In January, 1783, Sherburne became ill and was 
sent to the Frederick, a hospital ship. In this two 
men shared every bunk, and the conditions were 
wretchedly unsanitary. He was placed in a bunk with 
a man named Wills from Massachusetts, a very gentle 
and patient sufferer, who soon died. 

"1 have seen seven men drawn out and piled to- 
gether on the lower hatchway, who had died in one 
night on board the Frederick. 

"There were ten or twelve nurses, and about a 
hundred sick. Some, if not all of the nurses, were 
prisoners. * * * They would indulge in playing 
cards and drinking, while their fellows were thirsting 
for water and some dying. At night the hatches were 
shut down and locked, and the nurses lived in the 
steerage, and there was not the least attention paid to 
the sick except by the convalescent, who were so fre- 
quently called upon that, in many cases, they overdid 
themselves, relapsed, and died." 

Sherburne suffered extremely from the cold. "I 
have often," he says "toiled the greatest part of the 
night, in rubbing my feet and legs to keep them from 
freezing. * * * j^ consequence of these chills I 
have been obliged to wear a laced stocking upon my 
left leg for nearly thirty years past. My bunk was 
directly against the ballast-port; and the port not be- 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 301 

ing caulked, when there came a snow-storm the snow 
would blow through the seams in my bed, but in those 
cases there was one advantage to me, when I could 
not otherwise procure water to quench my thirst. The 
provision allowed the sick was a gill of wine, and 
twelve ounces of bread per day. The wine was of an 
ordinary quality, and the bread made of sour or 
musty flour, and sometimes poorly baked. There was 
a small sheet iron stove between decks, but the fuel 
was green, and not plenty, and there were some 
peevish and surly fellows generally about it. I never 
got an opportunity to sit by it, but I could generally 
get the favor of some one near it to lay a slice of 
bread upon it, to warm or toast it a little, to put into 
my wine and water. We sometimes failed in getting 
our wine for several days together; we had the 
promise of its being made up to us, but this promise 
was seldom performed. * * * Water was brought 
on board in casks by the working party, and when it 
was very cold it would freeze in the casks, and it 
would be difficult to get it out. >h * * i ^as 
frequently under the necessity of pleading hard to 
get my cup filled. I could not eat my bread, but 
gave it to those who brought me water. I have given 
three days allowance to have a tin cup of water 
brought me. * * * ^ company of the good citi- 
zens of New York supplied all the sick with a pint 
of good Bohea tea, well sweetened with molasses a 
day; and this was constant. I believe this tea saved 
my life, and the lives of hundreds of others. * * * 
The physicians used to visit the sick once in several 
days : their stay was short, nor did they administer 
much medicine. Were I able to give a full descrip- 
tion of our wretched and filthy condition I should 



302 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

almost question whether it would be credited. 
* H= ^ It was God's good pleasure to raise me up 
once more so that I could just make out to walk, and 
I was again returned to the Jersey prison ship." 

Here he received sad news. One of his uncles was 
a prisoner on board the Jersey, and had been very 
kind to him, giving him a share of his money with 
which to purchase necessaries. Now he found his 
uncle about to take his place in the hospital ship. A 
boy named Stephen Nichols also informed him of the 
death in his absence of the gunner of their ship, whose 
name was Daniel Davis. This poor man had his 
feet and legs frozen, from which he died. 

"Nichols and myself were quite attached to each 
other. * * * We stalked about the decks to- 
gether, lamenting our forlorn condition. In a few 
days there came orders to remove all the prisoners 
from the Jersey in order to cleanse the ship. We 
were removed on board of transports, and directly 
there came on a heavy storm. The ship on which I 
was was exceedingly crowded, so that there was not 
room enough for each man to lay down under deck, 
and the passing and repassing by day had made the 
lower deck entirely wet. Our condition was distress- 
ing. After a few days we were all put on board the 
Jersey again. A large number had taken violent 
colds, myself among the rest. The hospital ships 
were soon crowded, and even the Jersey herself 
shortly became about as much of a hospital ship as 
the others." 

Sherburne was again sent to a hospital ship, where 
he was rejoiced to find his uncle convalescing. A man 
who lay next him had been a nurse, but had had his 
feet and legs frozen, the toes and bottom of his feet 
fell off. 



American Prisoners of the Revoi^ution 303 

Two brothers shared a bunk near him. Their 
names were John and Abraham Falls. John was 
twenty-three, and Abraham only sixteen. Both were 
very sick. One night Abraham was heard imploring 
John not to lie on him, and the other invalids re- 
proached him for his cruelty in thus treating his 
young brother. But John was deaf to their re- 
proaches, for he was dead. Abraham was too ill to 
move from under him. Next day the dead brother 
was removed from the living one, but it was too late 
to save him, and the poor boy died that morning. 

Sherburne says that only five of his crew of 
thirteen survived, and that in many instances a much 
larger proportion died. 

"At length came news of peace. It was exceedingly 
trying to our feelings to see our ship mates daily 
leaving us, until our ship was almost deserted. We 
were, however, convalescent, but v/e gained exceed- 
ingly slowly. * * * J think there were but seven 
or eight left on board the hospital ship when we left 
it, in a small schooner sent from R. I., for the pur- 
pose of taking home some who belonged to that place, 
and the commander of the hospital ship had the 
humanity to use his influence with the master of 
the cartel to take us on board, and to our unspeakable 
joy he consented." 

When at last he reached home he says : "My 
brother Sam took me into another room to divest me 
of my filthy garments and to wash and dress me. He 
having taken off my clothes and seen my bones pro- 
jecting here and there, was so astonished that his 
strength left him. He sat down on the point of faint- 
ing, and could render me no further service. I was 
able to wash myself and put on my clothes." 

After this he was obliged to spend twenty days in 



304 American Prisoners of the Revoi^ution 

bed. Poor Mrs. Falls, the mother of the two young 
men who had died on the hospital ship, called on him 
and heard the fate of her sons. She was in an agony, 
and almost fainted, and kept asking if it was not a 
mistake that both were dead. 



CHAPTER XXXI 
Captain Rosweli^ Palmer 

IN THE year 1865 a son of Captain Roswell 
Palmer, of Connecticut, wrote a letter to Mr. 
Plenry Drowne, in which he narrates the story of 
his father's captivity, which we will condense in these 
pages. He says that his father was born in Ston- 
ington, Conn., in August, 1764, and was about seven- 
teen at the time of his capture by the British, which 
must have been in 1781. 

Palmer had several relations in the army, and was 
anxious to enlist, but was rejected as too young. His 
uncle, however, received him as an assistant in the 
Commissary Department, and when the brig Pil- 
grim, of Stonington, was commissioned to make 
war on the public enemy, the rejected volunteer was 
warmly welcomed on board by his kinsman, Captain 
Humphrey Crary. 

The first night after putting to sea, the Pilgrim en- 
countered a British fleet just entering the Vineyard 
Sound. A chase and running fight of several hours 
ensued, but at length the vessel was crippled and 
compelled to surrender. The prize was taken into 
Holmes' Hole, and the crew subsequently brought 
to New York. Mr. Henry Palmer thus describes the 
Jersey, which was his father's destination. 

*'The Jersey never left her anchorage at the Walla- 
bout, whether from decrepitude, or the intolerable 
burden of woes and wrongs accumulated in her 
wretched hulk, — but sank slowly down at last into the 
subjacent ooze, as if to hide her shame from human 
sight, and more than forty years after my father 
—20 



306 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

pointed out to me at low tide huge remnants of her 
unburied skeleton. 

**On board of this dread Bastile were crowded year 
after year, some 1,400 prisoners, mostly Americans. 
The discipline was very strict, while the smallest pos- 
sible attention was paid by their w^arders to the suf- 
ferings of the captives. Cleanliness was simply an 
impossibility, where the quarters were so narrow, the 
occupants so numerous, and little opportunity af- 
forded for washing the person or the tatters that 
sought to hide its nakedness. Fortunate was the 
wretch who possessed a clean linen rag, for this, 
placed in his bosom, seemed to attract to it crowds 
of his crawling tormentors, whose squatter 
sovereignty could be disposed of by the wholesale at 
his pleasure. 

''The food of the prisoners consisted mainly of 
spoiled sea biscuit, and of navy beef, which had be- 
come worthless from long voyaging in many climes 
years before. These biscuits were so worm-eaten that 
a slight pressure of the hand reduced them to dust, 
which rose up in little clouds of insubstantial aliment, 
as if in mockery of the half famished expectants. For 
variety a ration called 'Burgoo,' was prepared several 
times a week, consisting of mouldy oatmeal and 
water, boiled in two great Coppers, and served out in 
tubs, like swill to swine. 

"By degrees they grew callous to each other's 
miseries, and alert to seize any advantage over their 
fellow sufferers. Many played cards day and night, 
regardless of the scenes of woe and despair around 
them. * * * I'he remains (of those who died) 
were huddled into blankets, and so slightly interred 
on the neighboring slope that scores of them, bared 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 307 

by the rains, were always visible to their less fortunate 
comrades left to pine in hopeless captivity. * * * 
After having been imprisoned about a year and a half 
my father, one night, during a paroxysm of fever, 
rushed on board, and jumped overboard. 

"The shock restored him to consciousness, he was 
soon rescued, and the next morning was taken by 
the Surgeon-General's orders to his quarters in 
Cherry St., near Pearl, where he remained until the 
close of the war. The kind doctor had taken a fancy 
to the handsome Yankee patient, whom he treated 
with fatherly kindness ; giving him books to read ; and 
having him present at his operations and dissections; 
and finally urged him to seek his fortune in Europe, 
where he should receive a good surgical education 
free of charge. 

"The temptation was very great, but the remem- 
berance of a nearer home and dearer friends, unseen 
for years, was greater, and to them the long lost re- 
turned at last, as one from the dead." 

Captain Palmer commanded a merchant ship after 
the war, retired and bought a farm near Stockbridge, 
Mass. He followed the sea over forty years. In ap- 
pearance he was very tall, erect, robust, and of rare 
physical power and endurance. He had remarkably 
small hands and feet, a high and fair forehead, his 
hair was very black, a tangle of luxuriant curls, and 
his eyes were clear hazel. He died in his, 79th year, 
in 1844, leaving a large family of children. In his 
own memoranda he writes: "Four or five hundred 
Frenchmen were transferred as prisoners to the orlop 
deck of the Jersey. They were much better treated than 
we Americans on the deck above them. All, however, 
suffered very much for the want of water, crowding 



308 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

around two half hogsheads when they were brought 
on board, and often fighting for the first drink. On 
one of these occasions a Virginian near me was el- 
bowed by a Spaniard and thrust him back. The 
Spaniard drew a sheath knife, when the Virginian 
knocked him headlong backwards, down two hatches, 
which had just been opened for heaving up a hogshead 
of stale water from the hold, for the prisoners' drink. 
This water had probably been there for years, and 
was as ropy as molasses. 

''There was a deal of trouble between the Ameri- 
can and the French and Spanish prisoners. The 
latter slept in hammocks, we, on the floor of the 
deck next above them. One night our boys went 
down * * >f: and, at a given signal, cut the ham- 
mock lashings of the French and Spanish prisoners at 
the head, and let them all down by the run on the 
dirty floor. In the midst of the row that followed 
this deed of darkness, the Americans stole back to 
their quarters, and were all fast asleep when the 
English guard came down. 

"No lights were permitted after ten o'clock. We 
used, however, to hide our candles occasionally under 
our hats, when the order came to 'Douse the glim!' 
One night the officer of the guard discovered our 
disobedience, and came storming down the hatchway 
with a file of soldiers. Our lights were all extin- 
guished in a moment, and we on the alert for our 
tyrants, whom we seized with a will, and hustled to 
and fro in the darkness, till their cries aroused the 
whole ship." 

An uncle of Roswell Palmer's named Eliakim 
Palmer, a man named Thomas Hitchcock, and John 
Searles were prisoners on board the Scorpion, a 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 309 

British 74, anchored off the Battery, New York. They 
were about to be transferred to the Old Jersey, when 
Hitchcock went into the chains and dropped his hat 
into the water. On his return he begged for a boat 
to recover it, and being earnestly seconded by Lieu- 
tenant Palmer, the officer of the deck finally con- 
sented, ordering a guard to accompany the "damned 
rebels." They were a long time in getting the boat 
off. The hat, in the mean time, floated away from 
the ship. They rowed very awkardly, of course got 
jeered at uproariously for ''Yankee land lubbers," 
and were presently ordered to return. Being then 
nearly out of musket range, Lieutenant Palmer sud- 
denly seized and disarmed the astonished guard, while 
his comrades were not slow in manifesting their 
latent adroitness in the use of the oar, to the no less 
astonishment of their deriders. In a moment the Bay 
was -alive with excitement ; many shots, big and little, 
were fired at the audacious fugitives from all the 
fleet; boats put off in hot pursuit; but the Stonington 
boys reached the Jersey shore in safety, and escaped 
with their prisoner to Washington's headquarters, 
where the tact and bravery they had displayed re- 
ceived the approval of the great commander. 

Lieutenant Eliakim Palmer was again taken pris- 
oner later in the war and again escaped. This time 
he was on board the Jersey. He cut away three iron 
bars let into an aperture on the side of the ship on 
the orlop deck, formerly a part of her hold. He swam 
ashore with his shirt and trousers tied to his head. 
Having lost his trousers he was obliged to make his 
way down Long Island for nearly its whole length, 
in his shirt only. He hid in ditches during the day, 
subsisting on berries, and the bounty of cows, milked 



310 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

directly into his mouth. He crawled by the sentries 
stationed at different parts of the island, and at 
length, after many days, reached Oyster Pond Point, 
whence he was smuggled by friends to his home in 
Stonington, Conn. 



CHAPTER XXXII 
The Narrative of Captain Alexander Coffin 

IN 1807 Dr. Mitchell, of New York published a 
small volume entitled: "The Destructive Opera-- 
tion of Foul Air, Tainted Provisions, Bad Water,, 
and Personal Filthiness, Upon Human Constitutions,, 
Exemplified in the Unparallelled Cruelty of the 
British to the American Captives at New York Dur- 
ing the Revolutionary War, on Board their Prison 
and Hospital ships. By Captain Alexander Coffin, 
Junior, One of the Surviving Sufferers. In a Com- 
munication to Dr. Mitchell, dated September 4th, 
1807." 

Truly our ancestors were long-winded! A part of 
this narrative is as follows : "I shall furnish you with 
an account of the treatment that I, with other of my 
fellow citizens, received on board the Jersey and John 
prison ships, those monuments of British barbarity 
and infamy. I shall give you nothing but a plain 
simple statement of facts that cannot be controverted. 
And I begin my narrative from the time of my leav- 
ing the South Carolina frigate. 

*'In June, 1782, I left the above-mentioned frigate 
in the Havana, on board of which I had long served 
as a mid-ship-man, and made several trading voyages. 
I sailed early in September, from Baltimore, for the 
Havana, in a fleet of about forty sail, most of which 
were captured, and we among the rest, by the British 
frigate, Ceres, Captain Hawkins, a man in every sense 
of the word a perfect brute. 

"Though our commander, Captain Hughes, was a 
very gentlemanly man, he was treated in the most 



312 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

shameful and abusive manner by said Hawkins, and 
ordered below to mess with the petty officers. Our 
officers were put into the cable tier, with the crew, 
and a guard placed at the hatchway to prevent more 
than two going on deck at a time. The provisions 
were of the very worst kind, and very short allowance 
even of them. They frequently gave us pea-soup, 
that is pea-water, for the pease and the soup, all but 
about a gallon or two, were taken for the ship's com- 
pany, and the coppers filled up with water, and 
brought down to us in a strap-tub. And Sir, I might 
have defied any person on earth, possessing the most 
acute olfactory powers and the most refined taste to 
decide, either by one or the other or both of these 
senses, whether it was pease and water, slush and 
water, or swill. 

"After living and being treated in this way, subject 
to every insult and abuse for ten or twelve days, we 
fell in with the Champion, a British twenty gun ship, 
which was bound to New York to refit, and were all 
sent on board of her. The Captain was a true sea- 
man and a gentleman, and our treatment was so dif- 
ferent from what we had experienced on board the 
Ceres, that it was like being removed from Purgatory 
to Paradise. His name, I think, was Edwards. 

"We arrived about the beginning of October in 
New York and were immediately sent on board the 
prison-ship in a small schooner, called, ironically 
enough, the Relief, commanded by one Gardner, an 
Irishman. 

"This schooner Relief plied between the prison 
ship and New York, and carried the water and pro- 
visions from that city to the ship. In fact the said 
schooner might emphatically be called the Relief, for 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 313 

the execrable water and provisions she carried re- 
lieved many of my brave but unfortunate countrymen 
by death, from the misery and savage treatment they 
daily endured. 

"Before I go on to relate the treatment we ex- 
perienced on board the Jersey, I will make one re- 
mark, and that is if you were to rake the infernal 
regions, I doubt whether you could find such another 
set of demons as the officers and men who had charge 
of the Old Jersey Prison-ship, and. Sir, I shall not 
be surprised if you, possessing the finer feelings 
which I believe to be interwoven in the composition 
of men, and which are not totally torn from the piece, 
till by a long and obstinate perseverance in the mean- 
est, the basest, and cruellest of all human acts, a man 
becomes lost to every sense of honor, of justice, of 
humanity, and common honesty; I shall not be sur- 
prised, I say, if you, possessing these finer feelings, 
should doubt whether men could be so lost to their 
sacred obligations to their God; and the moral ties 
which ought to bind them to their duty toward their 
fellow men, as those men were, who had the charge, 
and also who had any agency in the affairs of the 
Jersey prison-ship. 

"On my arrival on board the Old Jersey, I found 
there about 1,100 prisoners; many of them had been 
there from three to six months, but few lived over 
that time if they did not get away by some means or 
other. They were generally in the most deplorable 
situation, mere walking skeletons, without money, and 
scarcely clothes to cover their nakedness, and over- 
run with lice from head to feet. 

"The provisions. Sir, that were served out to us, 
was not more than four or five ounces of meat, and 



314 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

about as much bread, all condemned provisions from 
the ships of war^ which, no doubt, were supplied 
with new in their stead, and the new, in all probability,, 
charged by the commissaries to the Jersey. They, 
however, know best about that; and however secure 
they may now feel, they will have to render an ac- 
count of that business to a Judge who cannot be de- 
ceived. This fact, however, I can safely aver, that 
both the times I was confined on board the prison 
ships, there never were provisions served out to the 
prisoners that would have been eatable by men that 
were not literally in a starving situation. 

"The water that we were forced to use was carried 
from the city, and I postively assert that I never 
after having followed the sea thirty years, had on 
board of any ship, (and I have been three years on 
some of my voyages,) water so bad as that we were 
obliged to use on board the Old Jersey; when there 
was, as it were to tantalize us, as pure water, not 
more than three cables length from us, at the Mill in 
the Wallabout, as was perhaps ever drank. 

"There were hogs kept in pens on the Gun-deck 
for their own use; and I have seen the prisoners 
watch an opportunity, and with a tin pot steal the 
bran from the hogs' trough, and go into the Galley 
and when they could get an opportunity, boil it over 
the fire, and eat it, as you. Sir, would eat of good 
soup when hungry. This I have seen more than once, 
and there are now living besides me, who can bear 
testimony to the same fact. There are many other 
facts equally abominable that I could mention, but 
the very thought of those things brings to my recol- 
lection scenes the most distressing. 

"When I reflect how many hundreds of my brave 



Amfrican Prisoners of the Revolution 315 

and intre*)id countrymen I have seen, in all the bloom 
of health, brought on board of that ship, and in a few 
days numbered with the dead, in consequence of the 
savage treatment they there received, I can but adore 
my Creator that He suffered me to escape; but I did 
not escape, Sir, without being brought to the very 
verge of the grave. 

''This was the second time I was on board, which 
I shall mention more particularly hereafter. Those 
of us who had money fared much better than those 
who had none. I had made out to save, when taken, 
about twenty dollars, and with that I could buy from 
the bumboats, that were permitted to come alongside, 
bread, fruit, etc. ; but, Sir, the bumboatmen were of 
the same kidney as the officers of the Jersey and we 
got nothing from them without paying through the 
nose for it, and I soon found the bottom of my purse ; 
after which I fared no better than the rest. I was, 
however, fortunate in one respect; for after having 
been there about six weeks, two of my countrymen, 
(I am a Nantucket man) happened to come to New 
York to endeavor to recover a whaling sloop that had 
been captured, with a whaling license from Admiral 
Digby; and they found means to procure my release, 
passing me for a Quaker, to which I confess I had no 
pretensions further than my mother being a member 
of that respectable society. Thus, Sir, I returned to 
my friends, fit for the newest fashion, after an ab- 
sence of three years. 

"For my whole wardrobe I carried on my back, 
which consisted of a jacket, shirt, and trousers, a 
pair of old shoes and a handkerchief, which served 
me for a hat, and had more than two months, for I 
lost my hat the day we were taken, from the main- 
top-gallant yard, furling the top-gallant sail. 



316 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

*'My clothing, I forgot to mention, was completed 
laced with locomotive tinsel, and moved as by instinct, 
in all directions ; but as my mother was not fond of 
such company, she furnished me with a suit of my 
father's, who was absent at sea, and condemned my 
laced suit for the benefit of all concerned. 

"Being then in the prime of youth, about eighteen 
years of age, and naturally of a roving disposition; 
I could not bear the idea of being idle at home. I 
therefore proceeded to Providence, R. L, and shipped 
on board the brig Betsy and Polly, Captain Robert 
Folger, bound for Virginia and Amsterdam. We 
sailed from Newport early in February, 1783 ; and 
w^ere taken five days after, off the capes of Vir- 
ginia, by the Fair American privateer, of those parts, 
mounting sixteen six-pounders, and having 85 men, 
commanded by one Burton, a refugee, most of whose 
officers were of the same stamp. We were immed- 
iately handcuffed two and two, and ordered into the 
hold in the cable-tier. Having been plundered of our 
beds and bedding, the softest bed we had was the soft 
side of a water cask, and the coils of a cable. 

"The Fair American, after having been handsomely 
dressed by an United States vessel of half of her force, 
was obliged to put into New York, then in possession 
of the British army, to refit, and we arrived within the 
Hook about the beginning of March, and were put 
on board a pilot boat, and brought up to this city. 
The boat hauled up alongside the Crane-wharf, where 
we had our irons knocked off, the mark of which I 
carry to this day; and were put on board the same 
schooner. Relief, mentioned in a former part of this 
narrative, and sent up once more to the prison-ship. 

"It was just three months from my leaving the 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 317 

Old Jersey to my being again a prisoner on board of 
her, and on my return I found but very few of the 
men I had left three months before. Some had made 
their escape; some had been exchanged; but the 
greater part had taken up their abode under the 
surface of the hill, which you can see from your 
windows, where their bones are mouldering to dust, 
mingled with mother earth; a lesson to Americans, 
written in capitals, on British cruelty and injustice. 

"I found, on my return on board the Jersey, more 
prisoners than when I left her; and she being so 
crowded, they were obliged to send about 200 of us 
on board the John, a transport-ship of about 300 
tons. 

"There we were treated worse, if possible, than on 
board the Jersey, and our accommodations were 
infinitely worse, for the Jersey, being an old, con- 
demned 64 gun ship had two tiers of ports fore and 
aft, air-ports, and large hatchways, which gave a 
pretty free circulation of air through the ship; 
whereas the John, being a merchant-ship, and with 
small hatchways, and the hatchways being laid down 
every, night, and no man being allowed to go on deck 
* * * the effluvia arising from these, together 
with the already contaminated air, occasioned by the 
breath of so many people so pent up together, was 
enough to destroy men of the most healthy and robust 
constitutions. All the time I was on board this ship, 
not a prisoner eat his allowance, bad as it was, cooked, 
more than three or four times; but eat it raw as it 
came out of the barrel. * * =«= in the middle of 
the ship, between decks, was raised a platform of 
boards about two and a half feet high, for those 
prisoners to sleep on who had no hammocks. On this 



318 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

they used frequently to sit and play at cards to pass 
the time. One night in particular, several of us sat 
to see them play until about ten o'clock, and then 
retired to our hammocks. About one A. M, we were 
called and told that one Bird was dying; we turned 
out and went to where he lay, and found him just 
expiring. Thus, at 10 P. M, the young man was ap- 
parently as well as any of us, and at one A. M. had 
paid the debt to nature. Many others went off in the 
same way. It will perhaps be said that men die sud- 
denly anywhere. True, but do they die suddenly any- 
where from the same cause? After all these things 
it is, I think, impossible for the mind to form any 
other conclusion than that there was a premeditated 
design to destroy as many Americans as they could 
on board the prison-ships; the treatment of the pris- 
oners warrants the conclusion; but it is mean, base, 
and cowardly, to endeavor to conquer an enemy by 
such infamous means, and truly characteristic of base 
and cowardly wretches. The truly brave will always 
treat their prisoners well. 

"There were two or three hospital-ships near the 
prison-ships; and so soon as any of the prisoners 
complained of being sick, they were sent on board of 
one of them; and I verily believe that not one out of 
a hundred ever returned or recovered. I am sure I 
never knew but one to recover. Almost, and in fact 
I believe I may say every morning, a large boat from 
each of the hospital ships went loaded with dead 
bodies, which were all tumbled together into a hole 
dug for the purpose, on the hill where the national 
navy-yard now is. 

''A singular affair happened on board of one of the 
hospital-ships, and no less true than singular. All the 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 319 

prisoners that died after the boat with the load had 
gone ashore were sewed up in hammocks, and left 
on deck till next morning. As usual, a great number 
had thus been disposed of. In the morning, while 
employed in loading the boat, one of the seamen per- 
ceived motion in one of the hammocks, just as they 
were about launching it down the board placel for 
that purpose from the gunwale of the ship into the 
boat, and exclaimed, 'Damn my eyes! That fellow 
isn't dead !' and if I have been rightly informed, and I 
believe I have, there was quite a dispute between the 
man and the others about it. They swore he was dead 
enough, and should go into the boat; he swore he 
should not be launched, as they termed it, and took 
his knife and ripped open the hammock, and behold, 
the man was really alive. There had been a heavy 
rain during the night; and as the vital functions had 
not totally ceased, but were merely suspended in con- 
sequence of the main-spring being out of order, this 
seasonable moistening must have given tone and elas- 
ticity to the great spring, which must have communi- 
cated to the lesser ones, and put the whole machinery 
again into motion. You know better about this than 
I do, and can better judge of the cause of the re-ani- 
mation of the man. ^ ^ ^ He was a native of 
Rhode Island; his name was Gavot. He went to 
Rhode Island in the same flag of truce as myself, 
about a month afterwards. I felt extremely ill, but 
made out to keep about until I got home. My parents 
then lived on the island of Nantucket. I was then 
taken down, and lay in my bed six weeks in the most 
deplorable situation; my body was swelled to a great 
degree, and my legs were as big round as my body 
now is, and affected with the most excruciating pains. 



320 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

What my disorder was I will not pretend to say; but 
Dr. Tupper, quite an eminent physician, and a noted 
tory, who attended me, declared to my mother that he 
knew of nothing that would operate in the manner 
that my disorder did, but poison. For the truth of 
that I refer to my father and brothers, and to Mr. 
Henry Coffin, father to Captain Peter Coffin, of the 
Manchester Packet of this point. 

"Thus, Sir, in some haste, without much attention 
to order or diction, I have given you part of the his- 
tory of my Hfe and sufferings, but I endeavored to 
bear them as becam.e an American. And I must men- 
tion before I close, to the everlasting honor of those 
unfortunate Americans who were on board the Jersey, 
that notwithstanding the savage treatment they re- 
ceived, and death staring them in the face, every at- 
tempt which was made by the British to persuade them 
to enter their ships of war or in their army, was 
treated with the utmost contempt; and I saw only one 
instance of defection while I was on board, and that 
person was hooted at and abused by the prisoners till 
the boat was out of hearing. Their patriotism in pre- 
ferring such treatment, and even death in its most 
frightful shapes, to the service of the British, and 
fighting against their own country has seldom been 
equalled, certainly never excelled, and if diere be 
no monument raised with hands to commemorate the 
virtue of those men, it is stamped in capitals on the 
heart of every American acquainted with their merit 
and sufferings, and will there remain as long as the 
blood flows from its fountains." 

We have already seen that many of the prisoners 
on board the Jersey were impressed into the service 
of British men-of-war, and that others voluntarily en- 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 321 

listed for garrison duty in the West Indies. It seems 
probable, however, that, as Captain Coffin asserts, few 
enlisted in the service to fight against their own 
countrymen, and those few were probably actuated by 
the hope of deserting. It is certain that thousands pre- 
ferred death to such a method of escaping from prison, 
as is proved by the multitudes of corpses interred in 
the sand of the Wallabout, all of whom could, in this 
way, have saved their lives. Conditions changed on 
board the Jersey, from time to time. Thus, the water 
supply that was at one time brought by the schooner 
Relief from New York, was, at other times, procured 
from a beautiful spring on Long Island, as we will see 
in our next chapter. 

Some of the prisoners speak of the foul air on board 
the prison ship caused by the fact that all her port 
holes were closed, and a few openings cut in her sides, 
which were insufficient to ventilate her. Coffin says 
there was a good passage of air through the vessel from 
her port holes. It is probable that the Jersey became 
so notorious as a death trap that at last, for very 
shame, some attempt was made to secure more sani- 
tary conditions. Thus, just before peace was estab- 
lished, she was, for the first time, overhauled and 
cleaned, the wretched occupants being sent away for 
the purpose. The port holes were very probably 
opened, and this is the more likely as we read of some 
of the prisoners freezing to death during the last year 
of the war. From that calamity, at least, they were 
safe as long as they were deprived of outer air, 
—21 



CHAPTER XXXIII 
A Wonderful Deliverance 

THERE are few records of religious feeling on 
board the ''Jersey, vulgarly called 'Hell.'" 
No clergyman was ever known to set foot on board 
of her, although a city of churches was so near. The 
fear of contagion may have kept ministers of the gos- 
pel away. Visitors came, as we have seen, but not to 
soothe the sufferings of the prisoners, or to comfort 
those who were dying. It is said that a young doctor, 
named George Vandewater attended the sick, until he 
took a fatal disease and died. He was a resident of 
Brooklyn, and seems to have been actuated by motives 
of humanity, and therefore his name deserves a place 
in this record. 

But although the rough seamen who left narratives 
of their experiences in that fearful place have told us 
little or nothing about the inner feelings of those poor 
sufferers, yet it must be presumed that many a silent 
prayer went up to the Judge and Father of all men, 
from the depths of that foul prison ship. There was 
one boy on board the Jersey, one at least, and we hope 
that there were many more, who trusted in God that 
He could deliver him, even "from the nethermost hell." 

A large proportion of the prisoners were young men 
in their teens, who had been attracted by the myste- 
rious fascination of the sea; many of them had run 
away from good homes, and had left sorrowing par- 
ents and friends to mourn their loss. The feelings 
of these young men, full of eager hopes, and as yet 
unsoured by too rough handling in their wrestle with 
the world, suddenly transferred to the deck of the 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 323 

Jersey, has been well described by Fox and other 
captives, whose adventures we have transcribed in 
these pages. 

We have now to tell the experience of a youth on 
the Jersey who lived to be a minister, and for many 
years was in charge of a church at Berkeley. This youth 
was sensitive, delicate, and far from strong. His 
faith in human nature received a shock, and his dis- 
position was warped at the most receptive and forma- 
tive period of his life, by the terrible scenes of suf- 
fering on the one hand, and relentless cruelty on the 
other, that he witnessed in that fatal place. He wrote, 
in his memoir many years after : '7 have since found 
that the whole world is hut one great prison-house of 
guilty, sorrowful, and dying men, who live in pride, 
envy, and malice, hateful, and hating one another." 

This is one of the most terrible indictments of the 
human race that was ever written. Let us hope that 
it is not wholly true. 

In 1833 the Rev. Thomas Andros pubUshed his rec- 
ollections under the title, "The Old Jersey Captive." 
We will give an abstract of them. He begins by say- 
ing : "I was but in my seventeenth year when the strug- 
gle commenced. In the summer of 1781 the ship Han- 
nah, a very rich prize, was captured and brought into 
the port of New London. It infatuated great num- 
bers of our young men who flocked on board our pri- 
vate armed ships in hopes of as great a prize. * * * 
I entered on board a new Brig called the 'Fair Ameri- 
can.' She carried sixteen guns. * * * We were 
captured on the 27th of August, by the Solebay frig- 
ate, and safely stowed away in the Old Jersey prison 
ship at New York, an old, unsightly, rotten hulk. 

"Her dark and filthy appearance perfectly corres- 



324 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

ponded with the death and despair that reigned within. 
She was moored three quarters of a mile to the east- 
ward of Brooklyn ferry, near a tide-mill on the Long 
Island shore. The nearest distance to land was about 
twenty rods. No other British ship ever proved the 
means of the destruction of so many human beings." 

Andros puts the number of men who perished on 
board the Jersey as 11,000, and continues: "After 
it was known that it was next to certain death to con- 
fine a prisoner here, the inhumanity and wickedness 
of doing it was about the same as if he had been taken 
into the city and deliberately shot on some public 
square. * "^^ "^'^ Never did any Howard or angel 
of pity appear to inquire into or alleviate our woes. 
Once or twice a bag of apples was hurled into the 
midst of hundreds of prisoners, crowded together as 
thick as they could stand, and life and limbs were en- 
dangered by the scramble. This was a cruel sport. 
When I saw it about to commence I fled to the most 
distant part of the ship." 

At night, he says, the prisoners were driven down 
to darkness between decks, secured by iron gratings 
and an armed soldiery. He thus speaks of the tasks 
imposed upon the prisoners : "Around the well-room 
an armed guard were forcing up the prisoners to the 
winches to clear the ship of water, and prevent her 
sinking ; and little could be heard but a roar of mutual 
execrations, reproaches and insults. 

"Sights of woe, regions of sorrow, doleful shades; 
Where peace and rest can never dwell. 

"When I became an inmate of this abode of suffering, 
despair, and death, there were about 400 on boards 
but in a short time they were increased to 1,200. 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 325 

"All the most deadly diseases were pressed into the 
service of the king of terrors, but his prime ministers 
were dysentery, small pox, and yellow fever. The 
healthy and the diseased were mingled together in the 
main ship." 

He says that the two hospital ships were soon over- 
crowded, and that two hundred or more of the pris- 
oners, who soon became sick in consequence of the 
want of room, were lodged in the fore-part of the 
lower gun-deck, where all the prisoners were confined 
at night. 

"Utter derangement was a common sympton of yel- 
low fever, and to increase the horror of darkness 
which enshrouded us, for we were allowed no light, 
the voice of warning would be heard, 'Take care! 
There's a madman stalking through the ship with a 
knife in his hand !' " 

Andros says that he sometimes found the man by 
whose side he had lai*A all night a corpse in the morn- 
ing. There were niany sick with raging fever, and 
their loud cries for water, which could only be ob- 
tained on the upper deck, mingled with the groans of 
the dying, and the execrations of the tormented suf- 
ferers. If they attempted to get water from the upper 
deck, the sentry would push them back with his bay- 
onet. Andros, at one time, had a narrow escape with 
his life, from one of these bayonet thrusts. 

"In the morning the hatches were thrown open and 
we were allowed to ascend. The first object we saw 
was a boat loaded with dead bodies conveying them 
to the Long Island shore, where they were very 
slightly covered with sand. ^ ^ ^ Let our dis- 
ease be what it would we were abandoned to our fate. 
No English physician ever came near us." 



2>26 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

Thirteen of the crew to which Andros belonged 
were on the Jersey. In a short time all but three or 
four were dead. The healthiest died first. They wxrc 
seized with yellow fever, which was an epidemic on 
the ship, and died in a few hours. Andros escaped 
contagion longer than any of his companions, with 
one exception. He says that the prisoners were fur- 
nished with buckets and brushes to cleanse the ship, 
and vinegar to sprinkle the floors, but that most of 
them had fallen into a condition of apathy and de- 
spair, and that they seldom exerted themselves to im- 
prove their condition. 

"The encouragement to do so was small. The whole 
ship was equally affected, and contained pestilence 
enough to desolate a world ; disease and death were 
wrought into her very timbers. At the time I left it 
is to be supposed a more filthy, contagious, and deadly 
abode never existed among a Christianized people. 

"The lower hold and the orlop deck were such a 
terror that no man would venture down into them. 

* * "^ Our water was good could we have had 
enough of it: the bread was superlatively bad. I do 
not recollect seeing any which was not full of living 
vermin, but eat it, worms and all, we must, or starve. 

* * * A secret, prejudicial to a prisoner, revealed 
to the guard, was death. Captain Young of Boston 
concealed himself in a large chest belonging to a sailor 
going to be exchanged, and was carried on board the 
cartel, and we considered his escape as certain, but 
the secret leaked out, and he was brought back and 
one Spicer of Providence being suspected as the 
traitor the enraged prisoners were about to cut his 
throat. The guard rushed down and rescued him. 

"I knew no one to be seduced into the British serv- 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 327 

ice. They tried to force one of our crew into the 
navy, but he chose rather to die than perform any 
duty, and he was again restored to the prison-ship." 

Andros declares that there was no trace of reHgion 
exhibited on board the Jersey. He also says that the 
prisoners made a set of rules for themselves by which 
they regulated their conduct towards each other. No^ 
one was allowed to tyrannize over the weak, and mo- 
rality was enforced by rules, and any infraction of 
these regulations was severely punished. 

He speaks of scenes of dreadful suffering which 
he witnessed : 

"Which things, most worthy of pity, I myself saw, 
And of them was a part." 

**The prison ship is a blot which a thousand ages 
cannot eradicate from the name of Britian. * * * 
While on board almost every thought was occupied 
to invent some plan of escape. The time now came 
when I must be delivered from the ship or die. I was 
seized with yellow fever, and should certainly take 
the small-pox with it, and who does not know that I 
could not survive the operation of both of these diseases 
at once. * * * j assisted in nursing those who 
had the pox most violently. 

**The arrival of a cartel and my being exchanged 
would but render my death the more sure." 

Yet he endeavored to promote his exchange by step- 
ping up and giving in his name among the first, when 
a Hst of the prisoners was taken. Andros was not 
strong, and as he himself says, disease often seemed to 
pass over the weak and sickly, and to attack, with 
deadly result, the prisoners who were the healthiest 
and most vigorous. 

"It was the policy of the English to return for sound 



328 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

and healthy men sent from our prisons, such Ameri- 
cans as had but just the breath of Hfe in them, sure to 
die before they reached home. The guard would tell 
a man while in health, 'You haven't been here long 
enough, you are too well to be exchanged.' 

"There was one more method of getting from the 
ship," Andros continues, ''and that was at night to 
steal down through a gun-port which we had managed 
to open unbeknown to the guard, and swim ashore." 
This, he declared, was for him a forlorn hope. Al- 
ready under the influence of yellow fever, and barely 
able to walk, he was, even when well, unable to swim 
ten rods. Discovery was almost certain, for the guards 
now kept vigilant watch to prevent any one escaping 
in this manner, and they shot all whom they detected 
in the act of escaping. Yet this poor young man 
trusted in God. He writes : "God, who had some- 
thing more for me to do, undertook for me." Mr. 
Emery, the sailing master, was going ashore for water. 
Andros stepped up to him and asked: "Mr. Emery, 
may I go on shore with you after water?" 

No such favor had ever been granted a prisoner, 
and Andros scarcely knew what prompted him to pre- 
fer such a request. To his immense surprise, the sail- 
ing master, who must have had a heart after all, re- 
plied, "Yes, with all my heart." He was evidently 
struck with compassion for the poor, apparently dying, 
young man. 

Andros, to the astonishment of his companions, im- 
mediately descended into the boat. Some of them 
asked: "What is that sick man going on shore for?" 

The British sailors endeavored to dissuade him, 
thinking that he would probably die on the excursion. 

"So, to put them all to silence, I again ascended on 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 329 

board, for I had neglected to take my great-coat. But 
I put it on, and waited for the saiHng-master. The 
boat was pushed off, I attempted to row, but an Eng- 
lish sailor said, very kindly, 'Give me the oar. You 
are too unwell.' * * * j looked back to the black 
and unsightly old ship as to an object of the greatest 
horror. * * * We ascended the creek and ar- 
rived at the spring, and I proposed to the sailors to 
go in quest of apples." 

The sailing-master said to him, "This fresh air will 
be of service to you." This emboldened him to ask 
leave to ascend a bank about thirty feet high, and to 
call at a house near the spring to ask for refreshment. 
*^Go," said Mr. Emery, "but take care not to be out 
of the way." He replied that his state of health was 
such that nothing was to be feared from him on that 
account. He managed to get into a small orchard that 
belonged to the farmhouse. There he saw a sentinel, 
who was placed on guard over a pile of apples. He 
soon convinced himself that this man was indifferent 
to his movements, and, watching his opportunity, when 
the man's back was turned, he slipped beyond the or- 
chard, into a dense swamp, covered with a thick under- 
growth of saplings and bushes. Here there was a huge 
prostrate log twenty feet in length, curtained with a 
dense tangle of green briar. 

"Lifting up this covering I crept in, close by the 
log, and rested comfortably, defended from the north- 
east storm which soon commenced." 

He heard the boat's crew making inquiries for him 
but no one discovered his hiding-place. One of them 
declared that he was safe enough, and would never 
live to go a mile. In the middle of the night he left 
his hiding place, and fell into a road which he pur- 



330 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

sued some distance. When he heard approaching foot- 
steps he would creep off the path, roll himself up into 
a ball to look like a bush, and remain perfectly still 
until the coast was clear. He now felt that a wonder- 
ful Providence was watching over him. His fore- 
thought in returning for his overcoat was the means 
of saving his life, as he would undoubtedly have per- 
ished from exposure without it. Next night he hid in 
a high stack of hay, suffering greatly. When the 
storm was over he left this hiding place, and entered 
a deep hollow in the woods near by, where he felt se- 
cure from observation. Here he took off his clothes 
and spread them in the sun to dry. 

Returning to the road he was proceeding on his way, 
when at a bend in the road, he came upon two light 
dragoons, evidently looking for him. What was he 
to do? His mind acted quickly, and, as they ap- 
proached, he leisurely got over a fence into a small 
corn field, near a cottage by the way-side. Here he 
busied himself as if he were the owner of the cottage, 
going about the field; deliberately picking up ears of 
corn; righting up the cap sheaf of a stack of stalks, 
and examining each one. He had lost his hat, and had 
a handkerchief around his head, which helped to de- 
ceive the dragoons, who supposed that he had just 
come out of the cottage. They eyed him sharply, but 
passed on. 

After this he dared not show himself, and wandered 
about, living on apples and water. He would lie con- 
cealed all day, in barns or hollows of the woods. At 
night he travelled as far as his weakened condition 
would allow. He often found unfermented cider at 
the presses, for it was cider-making time. 

After several days of this wandering life he sought 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 331 

refuge in a barn, where he was found by a cross old 
man, who refused to do anything for him. He says 
that in the course of his wanderings he uniformly 
found women kind and helpful. They gave him food 
and kept his secret. One night, feeling utterly spent, 
he came to the poor dwelling of an old man and his 
wife, on the east side of Long Island. These good 
people assisted him by every means in their power, as 
if he were their own son. They took off his clothes, 
giving him another suit until they had baked all his 
garments in the oven to destroy the vermin which tor- 
mented him day and night. They insisted upon his 
occupying a clean bed. That night he slept sweetly, 
rid of the intolerable torture of being eaten up alive. 
He managed to reach Sag Harbor, where he found 
two other escaped prisoners. Soon he was smuggled to 
Connecticut in a whale-boat, and restored to his 
mother. It was late in October when he reached home. 
He was very ill and delirious for a long time, but 
finally recovered, taught school for some time, and 
finally became a minister of the gospel. 



CHAPTER XXXIV 

The Narrative of Captain Dring 

BY FAR the most complete account of life on board 
the Old Jersey is contained in Captain Dring's 
Recollections. His nature was hopeful, and his con- 
stitution strong and enduring. He attempted to make 
the best of his situation, and succeeded in leading as 
nearly a tolerable life on board the prison-ship as 
was possible. His book is too long for insertion in 
these pages, but we will endeavor to give the reader 
an abstract of it. 

This book was pubHshed in 1865, having been pre- 
pared for the press and annotated by Mr. Albert G. 
Greene, who speaks of Captain Dring as "a frank, out- 
spoken, and honest seaman." His original manuscript 
was first published in 1829. 

Dring describes the prison ships as leaky old hulks, 
condemned as unfit for hospitals or store ships, but 
considered good enough for prisoners doomed to 
speedy annihilation. He says : 

*'There is little doubt that the superior officers of the 
Royal Navy under whose exclusive jurisdiction were 
these ships, intended to insure, as far as possible, the 
good health of those who were confined on board of 
them; there is just as little doubt, however, that the 
inferior officers, under whose control those prisoners 
were more immediately placed, * * * ^^^ often 
frustrated the purposes of their superior officers, and 
too often disgraced humanity, by their wilful disregard 
of the policy of their Government, and of the orders 
of their superiors, by the uncalled-for severity of their 
treatment of those who were placed in their custody, 






American Prisoners of the Revolution 333 

and by their shameless malappropriation of the means 
of support which were placed in their hands for the 
sustenance of the prisoners." 

However that may be, the superior officers must 
have known that the prison ships were unfit for hu- 
man habitation ; that they were fearfully overcrowded ; 
and that the mortality on board of them was unprece- 
dented in the annals of prison life. 

The introduction to Captain Drings's recollections 
eclares, what is well known, that General Washing- 
on possessed but limited authority ; he was the Com- 
mander-in-Chief of the army, but had nothing to do 
with the American Navy, and still less with the crews 
of privateers, who made up a very large portion of the 
men on board the Jersey. Yet he did all he could, 
actuated, as he always was, by the purest motives of 
benevolence and humanity. 

"The authority to exchange naval prisoners,*' to 
quote from this introduction, ''was not invested in 
Washington, but in the Financier, and as the prisoners 
on the Jersey freely set forth in their petition, the 
former was comparatively helpless in the premises, al- 
though he earnestly desired to relieve them from their 
sufferings. 

"It will be seen from these circumstances that no 
blame could properly attach to General Washington^ 
or the Continental Congress, or the Commissary of 
Prisoners; the blame belonged to those who were en- 
gaged in privateering, all of whom had been ac- 
customed to release, without parole, the crews of the 
vessels which they captured, or enlist them on other 
privateers ; in both cases removing the very means by 
which alone the release of their captive fellow seamen 
could be properly and safely effected. 



334 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

"From the careful perusal of all the information we 
possess on this interesting subject, the reader will 
arise with the conviction that, by unwarrantable abuses 
of authority; and unprincipled disregard of the pur- 
poses of the British Government in some of its agents, 
great numbers of helpless American prisoners were 
wantonly plunged into the deepest distress; exposed 
to the most severe sufferings, and carried to unhonored 
graves. * * * Enough will remain uncontra- 
dicted by competent testimony to brand with everlast- 
ing infamy all who were immediately concerned in the 
business; and to bring a blush of shame on the cheek 
of every one who feels the least interest in the memory 
of any one w^ho, no matter how remotely, was a party 
to so mean and yet so horrible an outrage. * * * 
The authors and abettors of the outrages to which 
reference has been made will stand convicted not only 
of the most heartless criminality against the laws of 
humanity and the laws of God, but of the most fla- 
grant violation of the Laws of Nations, and the Law 
of the Land." 

These extracts are all taken from the Introduction 
to Captain Dring's Recollections, written by Mr. H. 
B. Dawson, in June, 1865. 

Captain Dring was born in Newport, R. L, on the 
third of August, 1758. He died in August, 1825, in 
Providence, R. I., and was about 67 years of age at 
the time of his death. He was many years in the mer- 
chant service, and wrote his recollections in 1824. 

"I was first confined on the Good Hope, in the year 
1779, then lying in the North River opposite the city 
of New York, but after a confinement of more than 
four months, I succeeded in making my escape to the 
Jersey shore." 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 335 

Captain Dring is said to have been one of the party 
who escaped from the Good Hope in October, 1779. 
The New Jersey papers thus described the escape. 

"Chatham, N. J. Last Wednesday morning about 
one o'clock made their escape from the Good Hope 
prison ship in the North River, nine Captains and 
two privates. Among the number was Captain James 
Prince, who has been confined four months, and hav- 
ing no prospect of being exchanged, concerted a plan 
in conjunction with the other gentlemen to make their 
escape, which they effected in the following manner: 
They confined the Mate, disarmed the sentinels, and 
hoisted out the boat which was on deck ; they brought 
off nine stands of arms, one pair of pistols, and a 
sufficient quantity of ammunition, being determined 
not to be taken alive. They had scarce got clear of 
the ship before the alarm was given, when they were 
fired on by three dift'erent ships, but fortunately no 
person was hurt. Captain Prince speaks in the highest 
terms of Captain Charles Nelson, who commanded the 
prison-ship, using the prisoners with a great deal of 
humanity, particularly himself. 

"I was again captured in 1782," Dring continues, 
"and conveyed on board the Jersey, where * * * I 
was a witness and partaker of the unspeakable suf- 
ferings of that wretched class of American prisoners 
who were there taught the utmost extreme of human 
misery. I am now far advanced in years, and am the 
only survivor, with the exception of two, of a crew of 
65 men. I often pass the descendant of one of my old 
companions in captivity, and the recollection comes 
fresh to my mind that his father was my comrade and 
fellow sufferer in prison ; that I saw him breathe his 
last upon the deck of the Jersey, and assisted at his 
interment at the Waleboght; * * * 



336 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

''In May, 1782, I sailed from Providence, R. I., as 
Master's-mate, on board a privateer called the Chance, 
commanded by Captain Daniel Aborn, mounting 12 
six-pound cannon, and having a crew of 65 men." 

This vessel was captured in a few days by the Beli- 
sarius, of 26 guns, commanded by Captain Graves. 
The prisoners were brought to New York and the Bel- 
isarius dropped her anchor abreast of the city. A 
large gondola soon came alongside, in which was 
seated David Sproat, the much-hated British Commis- 
sary of Naval Prisoners. He was an American ref- 
ugee, universally detested for the insolence of his man- 
ners, and the cruelty of his conduct. The prisoners 
were ordered into the boats, and told to apply them- 
selves to the oars, but declined to exert themselves in 
that manner, whereupon he scowled at them and re- 
marked, "I'll soon fix you, my lads!" 

David Sproat found Am.erica too hot for him after 
the war and died at Kirkcudbright, Scotland, in 1799. 

Dring says : ''My station in the boat as we hauled 
alongside, was exactly opposite one of the air-ports 
in the side of the ship. From this aperture proceeded 
a strong current of foul vapor of a kind to which I 
had been before accustomed while confined on board 
the Good Hope, the peculiar disgusting smell of which 
I then recollected, after a lapse of three years. This 
was, however, far more foul and loathsome than any- 
thing which I had ever met with on board that ship, 
and it produced a sensation of nausea far beyond my 
powers of description. 

"Here, while waiting for orders to ascend on board, 
we were addressed by some of the prisoners from the 
air-ports ^ ^ ^^ after some questions whence 
we came, and respecting the manner of our capture^ 



American Prisoners of the Revoi.ution 337 

one of the prisoners said that it was a lamentable 
thing to see so many young men in the prime of health 
and vigor condemned to a living grave." He went on 
to say that Death passed over such human skeletons 
as himself as unworthy of his powers, but that he de- 
lighted in making the strong, the youthful, and the 
vigorous, his prey. 

After the prisoners had been made to descend the 
hatchways, these were then fastened down for the 
night. Dring says it was impossible for him to find 
one of his companions in the darkness. 

''Surrounded by I knew not whom, except that they 
were beings as wretched as myself ; with dismal sounds 
meeting my ears from every direction ; a nauseous and 
putrid atmosphere filling my lungs at every breath ; 
and a stifling and suffocating heat which almost de- 
prived me of sense, even of life. Previous to leaving 
the boat I had put on several articles of clothing, for 
the purpose of security, but I was soon compelled to 
disencumber myself of these. * * * Thoughts of 
sleep did not enter into my mind." 

He discovered a gleam of light from one of the 
port-holes and keeping hold of his bag endeavored to 
make his way to it, but was greeted by curses and im- 
precations from those who were lying on the deck, and 
whom he disturbed. At length he arrived at the de- 
sired spot, but found it occupied. In the morning he 
saw himself surrounded by a crowd of forms, with 
the hues of death and famine upon their faces. At 
eight o'clock they were permitted to ascend on deck, 
and he found some of his friends. 

"Pale and meagre, the throng came on deck, to view 
for a few moments the morning sun, and then to de- 
scend again, to pass another day of misery and wretch- 
—22 



33S American Prisoners of the Revolution 

edness, I found myself surrounded by a motley crew 
of wretches, with tattered garments and pallid visages. 

* * * Among them I saw one ruddy and heathful 
countenance, and recognized the features of one of 
my late companions on the Belisarius. But how dif- 
ferent did he appear from the group around him 

* * * men who, now shrunken and decayed, had 
but a short time before been as strong, as healthful, 
and as vigorous as himself. ^ ^ ^ During the 
night I had, in addition to my other sufferings, been 
tormented with what I supposed to be vermin, and on 
coming upon deck, I found that a black silk handker- 
chief, which I wore around my neck, was completely 
spotted with them. Although this had often been 
mentioned as one of the nuisances of the place, yet 
as I had never before been in a situation to witness 
anything of the kind, the sight made me shudder, as I 
knev/ at once that as long as I should remain on board, 
these loathsome creatures would be my constant com- 
panions and unceasing tormentors. 

"The next disgusting object which met my sight was 
a man suffering from small-pox; and in a few min- 
utes I found myself surrounded by many others la- 
boring under the same disease in every stage of its 
progress." 

Dring was obliged to inoculate himself, as that was 
thought to be the safest way of taking the disease. He 
borrowed some virus from a sufferer, and scarified the 
skin of his hand with a pin. He then bound up his 
hand. Next morning he found that it had festered. 
He took the disease lightly, and soon recovered, while 
a very large proportion of those who contracted small- 
pox in the natural manner died of it. 

All the prisoners from the Belisarius were obliged 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 339 

to fast for twenty-four hours. Dring had some ship 
hiscuit with him, in his bag. These he distributed to 
his companions. They then formed themselves into 
messes of six each, and next morning drew their scanty 
pittance of food. 

We have said that Dring and the other officers on 
board solved the problem of living with comparative 
comfort on board the Jersey. As they were officers, 
the gun-room was given up to their use, and they were 
not so terribly crowded as the common sailors. Also 
the officers had money to supply many of their wants, 
but all this will appear in the course of the narrative. 

He says that, even on the second day of their con- 
finement, they could not obtain their allowance of food 
in time to cook it. No distinction of rank was made 
by the jailors on the Jersey, but the prisoners them- 
selves agreed to allow the officers to occupy the ex- 
treme afterpart of the ship, between decks, called the 
gun-room. Dring soon became an inmate of this place, 
in company with the other officers who were already 
in possession, and these tendered him all the little 
services in their power. 

The different messes were all numbered. At nine 
o'clock the steward and his assistants would take their 
places at the window in the bulk head in the steward's 
room, and ring a bell. A man from each mess stood 
ready to be in time to answer when his number was 
called. The rations were all prepared ready for de- 
livery. They were on two-thirds allowance. This 
is the full allowance for a British seaman : 

Sunday — 1 lb. biscuit, 1 lb. pork, and half a pint of 
peas. 

Monday — 1 lb. biscuit, 1 pint oatmeal, 2 oz. butter. 
Tuesday — 1 lb. biscuit, and 2 lbs. beef. 



340 American Prisoners of the Revoi^ution 

Wednesday — 1^ lbs. flour, and 2 ounces suet. 
Thursday — Same as Sunday. 
Friday — Same as Alonday. 
Saturday — Same as Tuesday. 

Two thirds of this allowance for each man would 
have been sufficient to sustain life, had it been of mod- 
erately good quality. They never received butter, but 
a rancid and ill-smelling substance called sweet oil. 
"The smell of it, accustomed as we were to everything 
foul and nauseous, was more than we could endure. 
We, however, always received it, and gave it to the 
poor, half-starved Frenchmen who were on board, who 
took it gratefully, and swallowed it with a little salt 
and their wormy bread." 

Oil had been dealt out to the prisoners on the Good 
Hope, but there it was hoarded carefully, for they 
were allowed lights until nine P. M., so they used it in 
their lamps. But on the Jersey, Dring declares that 
neither light nor fire was ever allowed. 

Often their provisions were not dealt out in time 
to be cooked that day, and then they had to fast or eat 
them raw. The cooking was done in the "Great Cop- 
per" under the forecastle. This was a boiler enclosed 
in brick-work about eight feet square. It was large 
enough to contain two or three hogsheads of water. It 
was square, and divided into two portions. In one 
side peas and oatmeal were boiled in fresh water. On 
the other side the meat was boiled in salt water, and 
as we have already stated the food was poisoned by 
copperas. This was the cause, it is believed, of many 
deaths, especially as the water was obtained from 
alongside the ship, and was extremely unwholesome. 

The portion of each mess was designated by a tally 
fastened to it by a string. Hundreds of tallies were 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 341 

to be seen hanging over the sides of the brick-work 
by their strings, each eagerly watched by some mem- 
ber of the mess, who waited to receive it. 

The meat was suffered to remain in the boiler a cer- 
tain time, then the cook's bell was rung, and the pit- 
tance of food must be immediately removed, whether 
sufficiently cooked or not. The proportion of peas and 
oatmeal belonging to each mess was measured out 
of the copper after it was boiled. 

The cook alone seemed to have much flesh on his 
bones. He had been a prisoner, but seeing no pros- 
pect of ever being liberated he had offered his serv- 
ices, and his mates and scullions were also prisoners 
who had followed his example. The cook was not 
ill-natured, and although often cursed by the prisoners 
when out of hearing, he really displayed fortitude and 
forbearance far beyond what most men would have 
been capable of showing. ''At times, when his pa- 
tience was exhausted, 'he did, indeed, make the hot 
water fly among us, but a reconciliation was usually 
effected with little difficulty. 

■'Many of the different messes had obtained leave 
from His Majesty the Cook to prepare their own ra- 
tions, separate from the general mess in the great 
boiler. For this purpose a great many spikes and 
hooks had been driven into the brick-work by which 
the boiler was enclosed, on which to suspend their tin 
kettles. As soon as we were permitted to go on deck 
in the morning, some one took the tin kettle belong- 
ing to the mess, with as much water and as many 
splinters of wood as we had been able to procure dur- 
ing the previous day, and carried them to the Galley ; 
and there having suspended his kettle on one of the 
hooks or spikes stood ready to kindle his little fire as 



342 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

soon as the Cook or his mates would permit. It re- 
quired but little fire to boil our food in these kettles, 
for their bottoms were made concave, and the fire 
was applied directly in the centre, and let the remain- 
ing brands be ever so small they were all carefully 
quejnched; and having been conveyed below were 
kept for use on a future occasion. 

"Much contention often arose through our endeav- 
ors to obtain places around the brick-work, but these 
disputes were always promptly decided by the Cook, 
from whose mandate there was no appeal. No sooner 
had one prisoner completed the cooking for his mess, 
than another supplicant stood ready to take his place ; 
and they thus continued to throng the galley, during 
the whole time that the fire was allowed to remain 
under the Great Copper, unless it happened to be the 
pleasure of the Cook to drive them away. * * '•' 
Each man in the mess procured and saved as much 
water as possible during the previous day ; as no per- 
son was ever allowed to take more than a pint at a 
time from the scuttle-cask in which it was kept. 
Every individual was therefor obliged each day to 
save a little for the common use of the mess on the 
next morning. By this arrangement the mess to which 
I belonged had always a small quantity of fresh water 
in store, which we carefully kept, with a few other 
necessaries, in a chest which we used in common. 

"During the whole period of my confinement I never 
partook of any food which had been prepared in the 
Great Copper. It is to this fact that I have always 
attributed, under Divine Providence, the degree of 
health which I preserved on board. I was thereby 
also, at times, enabled to procure several necessary 
and comfortable things, such as tea, sugar, etc., so that, 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 343 

wretchedly as I was situated, my condition was far 
preferable to that of most of my fellow sufferers, 
which has ever been to me a theme of sincere and 
lasting gratitude to Heaven. 

"But terrible indeed was the condition of most of 
my fellow captives. jMemory still brings before me 
those emaciated beings, moving from the Galley with 
their wretched pittance of meat ; each creeping to the 
spot where his mess was assembled, to divide it with 
a group of haggard and sickly creatures, their gar- 
ments hanging in tatters round their meagre limbs, 
and the hue of death upon their careworn faces. By 
these it was consumed with the scanty remnants of 
bread, which was often mouldy and filled with worms. 
And even from this vile fare they would rise up in 
torments from the cravings of unsatisfied hunger and 
thirst. 

**No vegetables of any description were ever af- 
forded us by our inhuman keepers. Good Heaven! 
what a luxury to us would then have been even a few 
potatoes ! — if but the very leavings of swine. ^ * * 

"Oh my heart sinks, my pitying eyes o'erflow, 
When memory paints the picture of their woe: 
Where my poor countrymen in bondage wait 
The slow enfranchisement of lingering fate; 
Greeting with groans the unwelcome night's return. 
While rage and shame their gloomy bosoms burn; 
And chiding, every hour, the slow-paced sun, 
Endure their woes till all his race was run. 
No one to mark the sufferers with a tear 
No friend to comfort, and no hope to cheer, 
And like the dull, unpitied brutes repair 
To stalls as wretched, and as coarse a fare; 
Thank Heaven one day of misery was o'er. 
And sink to sleep, and wish to wake no more." 



CHAPTER XXXV 

The Narrative of Captain Dring (Continued) 

U'nnHE quarter-deck of the Jersey covered about 
X one-fourth of the upper deck, and the fore- 
castle extended from the stern, about one-eighth part 
of the length of the upper deck. Sentinels were sta- 
tioned on the gangways on each side of the upper deck, 
leading from the quarter-deck to the forecastle. These 
gangways were about five feet wide ; and here the pris- 
oners were allowed to pass and repass. The interme- 
diate space from the bulkhead of the quarter-deck to 
the forecastle was filled with long spars and booms, 
and called the spar-deck. The temporary covering 
afforded by the spar-deck was of the greatest benefit 
to the prisoners, as it served to shield us from the 
rain and the scorching rays of the sun. It was here, 
therefore, that our movables were placed when we 
were engaged in cleaning the lower decks. The spar- 
deck was also the only place where we were allowed 
to walk, and was crowded through the day by the pris- 
oners on deck. Owing to the great number of pris- 
oners, and the small space allowed us by the spar- 
deck, it was our custom to walk in platoons, each fac- 
ing the same way, and turning at the same time. The 
Derrick for taking in wood, water, etc., stood on the 
starboard side of the spar-deck. On the larboard 
side of the ship was placed the accommodation ladder, 
leading from the gangway to the water. At the head 
of the ladder a sentinel was also stationed. 

"The head of the accommodation ladder was near 
the door of the barricade, which extended across the 
front of the quarter-deck, and projected a few feet 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 345 

beyond the sides of the ship. The barricade was about 
ten feet high, and was pierced with loop-holes for 
musketry in order that the prisoners might be fired on 
from behind it, if occasion should require. 

"The regular crew of the ship consisted of a Cap- 
tain, two Mates, a Steward, a Corporal, and about 12 
sailors. The crew of the ship had no communication 
whatever with the prisoners. No person was ever 
permitted to pass through the barricade door, except 
when it was required that the messes should be ex- 
amined and regulated, in which case each man had to 
pass through, and go between decks, and there remain 
until the examination was completed. None of the 
guard or of the ship's crew ever came among the pris- 
oners while I was on board. I never saw one of her 
officers or men except when there were passengers 
going in the boat, to or from the stern-ladder. 

"On the two decks below, where we were confined 
at night, our chests, boxes, and bags were arranged 
in two Hues along the decks, about ten feet distant 
from the sides of the ship ; thus leaving as wide a 
space unencumbered in the middle of each deck, fore 
and aft, as our crowded situation would admit. Be- 
tween these tiers of chests, etc., and the sides of the 
ship, was the place where the different messes assem- 
bled; and some of the messes were also separated 
from their neighbors by a temporary partition of 
chests, etc. Some individuals of the different messes 
usually slept on the chests, in order to preserve their 
contents from being plundered in the night. 

"At night the spaces in the middle of the decks were 
much encumbered with hammocks, but these were 
always removed in the morning. * * * My usual 
place of abode being in the Gunroom, I was never un- 



346 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

der the necessity of descending to the lower dungeon; 
and during my confinement I had no disposition to 
visit it. It was inhabited by the most wretched in ap- 
pearance of all our miserable company. From the 
disgusting and squalid appearance of the groups which 
I saw ascending the stairs which led to it, it must have 
been more dismal, if possible, than that part of the 
hulk where I resided. Its occupants appeared to be 
mostly foreigners, who had seen and survived every 
variety of human suffering. The faces of many of 
them were covered with dirt and filth; their long hair 
and beards matted and foul ; clothed in rags, and with 
scarcely a sufTficient supply of these to cover their dis- 
gusting bodies. Many among them possessed no 
clothing except the remnant of those garments which 
they wore when first brought on board; and were un- 
able to procure even any material for patching these 
together, when they had been worn to tatters by con- 
stant use. ^ * * Some, and indeed many of them, 
had not the means of procuring a razor, or an ounce 
of soap. 

"Their beards were occasionally reduced by each 
other with a pair of shears or scissors. * * * 
Their skins were discoloured by continual washing in 
salt water, added to the circumstance that it was im- 
possible for them to wash their linen in any other 
manner than by laying it on the deck and stamping 
on it with their feet, after it had been immersed in 
salt water, their bodies remaining naked during the 
process. 

*'To men in this situation everything like ordinary 
cleanliness was impossible. Much that was disgusting 
in their appearance undoubtedly originated from neg- 
lect, which long confinement had rendered habitual. 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 347 

until it created a confirmed indifference to personal 
appearance. 

"As soon as the gratings had been fastened over 
the hatchways for the night, we usually went to our 
sleeping places. It was, of course, alwa3^s desirable to 
obtain a station as near as possible to the side of the 
ship, and, if practicable, in the immediate vicinity of 
one of the air-ports, as this not only afforded us a bet- 
ter air, but also rendered us less liable to be trodden 
upon by those who were moving about the decks dur- 
ing the night. 

"But silence was a stranger to our dark abode. 
There were continual noises during the night. The 
groans of the sick and the dying; the curses poured 
out by the weary and exhausted upon our inhuman 
keepers; the restlessness caused by the suffocating 
heat, and the confined and poisonous air, mingled with 
the wild and incoherent ravings of delirium, were the 
sounds which every night were raised around us in 
every direction. Such was our ordinary situation, but 
at times the consequences of our crowded condition 
were still more terrible, and proved fatal to many of 
our number in a single night. 

"But, strange as it may appear, notwithstanding all 
the * * * suffering which was there endured I 
knew many who had been inmates of that abode for 
two years, who were apparently perfectly well. They 
bad, as they expressed it, 'been through the furnace 
and become seasoned.' Most of these, however, were 
foreigners, who appeared to have abandoned all hope 
of ever being exchanged, and had become quite indif- 
ferent with regard to the place of their abode. 

"But far different was the condition of that portion 
of our number who were natives of the United States. 



348 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

These formed by far the most numierous class of the 
prisoners. Most of these were young men, * * * 
who had been captured soon after leaving their homes, 
and during their first voyage. After they had been 
here immured the sudden change in their situation was 
like a sentence of death. INIany a one was crushed 
down beneath the sickness of the heart, so well de- 
scribed by the poet: — 

" 'Night and day, 
Brooding on what he had been, what he was, 
'Twas more than he could bear; his longing fits 
Thickened upon him. His desire for Hone 
Became a madness.' 

"These poor creatures had, in many instances, been 
plundered of their wearing apparel by their captors, 
and here, the dismal and disgusting objects by which 
they were surrounded, the vermin which infested 
them, the vile and loathsome food, and what with 
them was far from being the lightest of their trials, 
their ceaseless longing after their homes, * * * 
all combined, had a wonderful effect on them. De- 
jection and anguish were soon visible on their coun- 
tenances. They became dismayed and terror-stricken ; 
and many of them absolutely died that most awful of 
all human deaths, the effects of a broken heart. 

"A custom had long been established that certain 
labor which it was necessary should be performed 
daily, should be done by a company, usually called the 
'Working party.' This consisted of about twenty able- 
bodied men chosen from among the prisoners, and was 
commanded, in daily rotation, by those of our num- 
ber who had formerly been officers of vessels. The 
cominander of the party for the day bore the title of 
Boatswain. The members of the Working-party re- 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 349 

ceived, as a compensation for their services, a full al- 
lowance of provisions, and half a pint of rum each, 
with the privilege of going on deck early in the morn- 
ing, to breathe the pure air. 

"This privilege alone was a sufficient compensation 
for all the duty which was required of them. 

"Their routine of service was to wash dov/n that 
part of the upper deck and gangways where the pris- 
oners were permitted to walk ; to spread the awning, 
or to ^loist on board the wood, water, and other sup- 
plies, from the boats in which the same were brought 
alongside the ship. 

"When the prisoners ascended to the upper deck 
in the morning, if the day was fair, each carried up 
his hammock and bedding, which were all placed upon 
the spar-deck, or booms. The Working-party then 
took the sick and disabled who remained below, and 
placed them in the bunks prepared for them upon the 
centre-deck; they then, if any of the prisoners had 
died during the night, carried up the dead bodies, and 
laid them upon the booms ; after which it was their 
duty to wash down the main decks below; during 
which operation the prisoners remained on the upper 
deck, except such as chose to go below and volunteer 
their services in the performance of this duty. 

"Around the railing of the hatchway leading from 
the centre to the lower decks, were placed a number 
of large tubs for the occasional use of the prisoners 
during the night, and as general receptacles of filth. 
Although these were indispensably necessary to us, 
yet they were highly offensive. It was a part of the 
duty of the Working-party to carry these on deck, at 
the time when the prisoners ascended in the mornings 
and to return them between decks in the afternoon. 



350 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

"Our beds and clothing were kept on deck until 
nearly the hour when we were to be ordered below 
for the night. During this interval * * * ^\-^q. 
decks washed and cleared of all incumbrance, except 
the poor wretches who lay in the bunks, it was quite 
refreshing after the suffocating heat and foul vapors 
of the night to w^alk between decks. There was then 
some circulation of air through the ship, and, for a 
few hours, our existence was, in some degree, toler- 
able. 

"About two hours before sunset the order was 
usually issued for the prisoners to carry their ham- 
mocks, etc., below. After this had been done we were 
all either to retire between decks, or to remain above 
until sunset according to our own pleasure. Every- 
thing which we could do conducive to cleanliness hav- 
ing then been performed, if we ever felt anything like 
enjoyment in this wretched abode, it was during this 
brief interval, when we breathed the cool air of the 
approaching night, and felt the luxury of our evening 
pipe. But short indeed was this interval of repose. 
The Working-party was soon ordered to carry the 
tubs below, and we prepared to descend to our gloomy 
and crowded dungeons. This was no sooner done 
than the gratings were closed over the hatchways, the 
sentinels stationed, and we left to sicken and pine be- 
neath our accumulated torments; with our guards 
above crying aloud, through the long night, 'All's 
well!'" 

Captain Dring says that at that time the Jersey was 
used for seamen alone. The average number on 
board was one thousand. It consisted of the crews 
of vessels of all the nations with which the English 
were at war. But the greater number had been cap- 
tured on board American vessels. 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 351 

There were three hospital ships in the Wallabout; 
the Stromboli, the Hunter, and the Scorpion.* There 
was not room enough on board these ships for all the 
sick, and a part of the upper deck of the Jersey was 
therefore prepared for their accommodation. These 
were on the after part of the upper deck, on the lar- 
board side, where those who felt the symptoms of ap- 
proaching sickness could lie down, in order to be 
found by the nurses as soon as possible. 

Few ever returned from the hospital ships to the 
Jersey. Dring knew but three such instances during 
his imprisonment. He says that ''the outward appear- 
ance of these hospitals was disgusting in the highest 
degree. The sight of them was terrible to us. Their 
appearance was even .more shocking than that of our 
own miserable hulk. 

"On board the Jersey among the prisoners were 
about half a dozen men known by the appellation of 
nurses. I never learned by whom they were appointed, 
or whether they had any regular appointment at all. 
But one fact I knew well ; they were all thieves. They 
were, however, sometimes useful in assisting the sick 
to ascend from below to the gangway on the upper 
deck, to be examined by the visiting Surgeon who at- 
tended from the Hunter every day, when the weather 
was good. If a sick man was pronounced by the Sur- 
geon to be a proper subject for one of the hospital 
ships, he was put into the boat waiting alongside ; but 
not without the loss or detention of his eirects, if he 
had any, as these were at once taken by the nurses, as 
their own property. * * * j j^ad found Mr. Rob- 

*At one time as we have seen, the Scorpion was a prison 
ship, from which Freneau was sent to the Hunter hos- 
pital ship. 



352 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

ert Carver, our Gunner while on board the Chance, 
sick in one of the bunks where those retired who 
wished to be removed. He was without a bed or pil- 
low, and had put on all the wearing apparel which he 
possessed, washing to preserve it, and being sensible of 
his situation. I found him sitting upright in the bunk, 
with his great-coat on over the rest of his garments, 
and his hat between his knees. The weather was ex- 
cessively hot, and, in the place where he lay, the heat 
was overpowering. I at once saw that he was delir- 
ious, a sure presage that the end was near. I took off 
his great-coat, and having folded and placed it under 
his head for a pillow, I laid him upon it, and went 
immediately to prepare him some tea. I was absent 
but a few minutes, and, on returning, met one of the 
thievish Nurses with Carver's great-coat in his hand. 
On ordering him to return it his reply was that it was 
a perquisite of the Nurses, and the only one they had ; 
that the man was dying, and the great-coat could be 
of no further use to him. I however, took possession 
of the coat, and on my liberation, returned it to the 
family of the owner. Air Carver soon after expired 
where he lay. We procured a blanket in which to wrap 
his body, which was thus prepared for interment. 
Others of the crew of the Chance had died before that 
time. Mr Carver was a man of strong and robust con- 
stitution. Such men were subject to the most violent 
attacks of the fever, and were also its most certain 
victims. 



CHAPTER XXXVI 
The Interment of the Dead 

C'^ APTAIN Dring continues his narrative by describ- 
y ing the manner in which the dead were interred 
in the sand of the Wallabout. Every morning, he 
says, the dead bodies were carried to the upper deck 
and there laid upon the gratings. Any person who 
could procure, and chose to furnish, a blanket, was al- 
lowed to sew it around the remains of his departed 
companion. 

"The signal being made, a boat was soon seen ap- 
proaching from the Hunter, and if there were any 
dead on board the other ships, the boat received them, 
on her way to the Jersey. 

"The corpse was laid upon a board, to which some 
ropes were attached as straps ; as it was often the case 
that bodies were sent on shore for interment before 
they had become sufficiently stiff to be lowered into 
the boat by a single strap. Thus prepared a tackle 
was attached to the board, and the remains * * * 
were hoisted over the side of the ship into the boat, 
without further ceremony. If several bodies were 
waiting for interment, but one of them was lowered 
into the boat at a time, for the sake of decency. The 
prisoners were always very anxious to be engaged in 
the duty of interment, not so much from a feeling of 
humanity, or from a wish to pay respect to the re- 
mains of the dead, for to these feelings they had al- 
most become strangers, as from the desire of once 
more placing their feet on the land, if but for a few 
minutes. A sufficient number of prisoners having re- 
ceived permission to assist in this duty, they entered 
23 



354 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

the boat accompanied by a guard of soldiers, and put 
off from the ship. 

*'I obtained leave to assist in the burial of the body 
of Mr. Carver, * * * and after landing at a low- 
wharf which had been built from the shore, we first 
went to a small hut, which stood near the wharf, and 
was used as a place of deposit for the handbarrows 
and shovels provided for these occasions. Having 
placed the corpses on the barrows, and received our 
hoes and shovels, we proceeded to the side of the 
bank near the Waleboght. Here a vacant space hav- 
ing been selected, we were directed to dig a trench in 
the sand, of a proper length for the reception of the 
bodies. We continued our labor until the guards con- 
sidered that a sufficient space had been excavated. The 
corpses were then laid in the trench without ceremony, 
and we threw the sand over them. The whole ap- 
peared to produce no more effect upon our guards 
than if they were burying the bodies of dead animals, 
instead of men. They scarcely allowed us time to 
look about us ; for no sooner had we heaped the earth 
upon the trench, than we were ordered to march. But 
a single glance was sufficient to show us parts of many 
bodies which were exposed to view, although they had 
probably been placed there with the same mockery 
of interment but a few days before. 

"Having thus performed, as well as we were per- 
mitted to do it, the last duty to the dead, and the 
guards having stationed them.s elves on each side of us, 
we began reluctantly to retrace our steps to the boat. 
We had enjoyed the pleasure of breathing for a few 
minutes the air of our native soil; and the thought of 
return to the crowded prison-ship was terrible in the 
extreme. As we passed by the waterside we implored 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 355 

our guards to allow us to bathe, or even to wash our- 
selves for a few mmutes, but this was refused us. 

"I was the only person of our party who wore a 
pair of shoes, and well recollect that I took them off 
for the pleasure of feeling the earth, or rather the 
sand, as we went along. -^ ^ ^ We went by a 
small patch of turf, some pieces of w-hich we tore up 
fromx the earth, and obtained permission to carry them 
on board for our comrades to smell them. Circum- 
stances like these may appear trifling to the careless 
reader ; but let him be assured that they were far from 
being trifles to men situated as we had been. The in- 
flictions which we had endured; the duty which we 
had just performed; the feeling that we must, in a 
few minutes, re-enter the place of suffering, from 
which, in all probability, we should never return alive ; 
all tended to render everything connected with the 
firm land beneath, and the sweet air above us, objects 
of deep and thrilling interest. 

''Having arrived at the hut we there deposited our 
implements, and walked to the landing-place, where 
we prevailed on our guards, who were Hessians, to 
allow us the gratification of remaining nearly half an 
hour before we returned to the boat. 

''Near us stood a house occupied by a miller, and 
we had been told that a tide-mill which he attended 
was in the immediate vicinity, as a landing-place for 
which the wharf where we stood had been erected. 
* « * It was designated by the prisoners by the 
appellation of the 'Old Dutchman's,' and its very walls 
were viewed by us with feelings of veneration, as we 
had been told that the amiable daughter of its owner 
had kept an accurate account of the number of bodies 
that had been brought on shore for interment from the 



356 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

Jersey and hospital ships. This could easily be done 
in the house, as its windows commanded a fair view 
of the landing place. We were not, however, grati- 
fied by a sight of herself, or of any other inmate of 
the house. 

"Sadly did we approach and re-enter our foul and 
disgusting place of confinement. The pieces of turf 
which we carried on board were sought for by our 
fellow prisoners, with the greatest avidity, every frag- 
ment being passed by them from hand to hand, and 
its smell inhaled as if it had been a fragrant rose. 

* * * The first of the crew of the Chance to che was 
a lad named Palmer, about twelve years of age, and the 
youngest of our crew. When on board the Chance he 
was a waiter to the officers, and he continued in this 
duty after we were placed on board the Jersey. He 
had, with many others of our crew, been inoculated 
for the small-pox, immediately after our arrival on 
board. The usual symptoms appeared at the proper 
time, and we supposed the appearance of his disorder 
favorable, but these soon changed, and the yellow hue 
of his features declared the approach of death. 

* * * The night he died was truly a v^^retched one 
for me. I spent miost of it in total darkness, holding 
him during his convulsions. >k ^ * j j^gj done 
everything in my power for this poor boy, during his 
sickness, and could render him but one more kind 
office (after his death). I assisted to sew a blanket 
around his body, which was, with others who had died, 
during the night, conveyed upon deck in the morning, 
to be at the usual hour hurried to the bank at the AVale* 
bocht. I regretted that I could not assist at his inter- 
ment, as I was then suffering with the small-pox my- 
self, neither am I certain that permission would have 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 357 

been granted me, if I had sought it. Our keepers ap- 
peared to have no idea that the prisoners could feel 
any regard for each other, but appeared to think us 
as cold-hearted as themselves. If anything like sym- 
pathy v^as ever shown us by any of them it was done 
by the Hessians. * * * l^he next deaths among 
our company were those of Thomas Mitchell and his 
son-in-law, Thomas Sturmey. It is a singular fact 
that both of these men died at the same time. 

THE GUARDS ON BOARD THE JERSEY 

"In addition to the regular officers and seamen of 
the Jersey, there were stationed on board about a 
dozen old invalid Marines, but our actual guard was 
composed of soldiers from the different regiments 
quartered on Long Island. The number usually on 
duty on board was about thirty. Each week they were 
relieved by a fresh party. They were English, Hes- 
sian, and Refugees. We always preferred the Hes- 
sians, from whom we received better treatment than 
from the others. As to the English, we did not com- 
plain, being aware that they merely obeyed their or- 
ders, in regard to us; but the Refugees * * * 
were viewed by us with scorn and hatred. I do not 
recollect, however, that a guard of these miscreants 
was placed over us more than three times, during 
which their presence occasioned much tumult and con- 
fusion; for the prisoners could not endure the sight 
of these men, and occasionally assailed them with abu- 
sive language, while they, in turn, treated us with all 
the severity in their power. We dared not approach 
near them, for fear of their bayonets, and of course 
could not pass along the gangways where they were 
stationed; but were obliged to crawl along upon the 



358 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

booms, in order to get fore and aft, or to go up and 
down the hatchways. They never answered any of 
our remarks respecting them, but would merely point 
to their uniforms, as much as to say, 'We are clothed 
by our Sovereign, while you are naked.' They were 
as much gratified by the idea of leaving us as we were 
at seeing them depart. 

"Many provoking gestures were made by the pris- 
oners as they left the ship, and our curses followed 
them as far as we could make ourselves heard. 

"A regiment of Refugees, with a green uniform, 
were then quartered at Brooklyn. We were invited 
to join this Royal band, and to partake of his Maj- 
esty's pardon and bounty. But the prisoners, in the 
midst of their unbounded sufferings, of their dreadful 
privations, and consuming anguish, spurned the in- 
sulting offer. They preferred to linger and to die 
rather than desert their country's cause. During the 
whole period of m.y confinement I never knew a sin- 
gle instance of enlistment among the prisoners of the 
Jersey. 

"The only dut}^, to my knowledge, ever performed 
by the old Marines was to guard the water-butt, near 
which one of them was stationed with a drawn cutlass. 
They were ordered to allow no prisoner to carry away 
more than one pint at once, but we were allowed to 
drink at the butt as much as we pleased, for which 
purpose two or three copper ladles were chained to 
the cask. Having been long on board and regular in 
performance of this duty, they had become familiar 
with the faces of the prisoners, and could, in many 
instances, detect the frauds which we practiced upon 
them in order to obtain more fresh water for our 
cooking than was allowed us by the regulations of the 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 359 

ship. Over the water the sailors had no control. The 
daily consumption of water on board was at least 
equal to 700 gallons. I know not whence it was 
brought, but presume it was from Brooklyn. One 
large gondola, or boat, was kept in constant employ- 
ment to furnish the necessary supply. 

"So much of the water as was not required on deck 
for immediate use was conducted into butts, placed 
in the lower hold of the hulk, through a leather hose,, 
passing through her side, near the bends. To this 
water we had recourse, when we could procure no 
other. 

''When w^ater in any degree fit for use was 
brought on board, it is impossible to describe the strug- 
gle which ensued, in consequence of our haste and 
exertions to procure a draught of it. The best which 
was ever afforded us was very brackish, but that from 
the ship's hold was nauseous in the highest degree. 
This must be evident when the fact is stated that the 
butts for receiving it had never been cleaned since 
they were put in the hold. The quantity of foul sedi- 
ment which they contained was therefore very great,, 
and was disturbed and mixed with the water as often 
as a new supply was poured into them, thereby render- 
ing their whole contents a substance of the most dis- 
gusting and poisonous nature. I have not the least 
doubt that the use of this vile compound caused the 
death of hundreds of the prisoners, when, to allay 
their tormenting thirst, they were driven by despera- 
tion to drink this liquid poison, and to abide the con- 
sequences. 



CHAPTER XXXVII 

Dame Grant and Her Boat 

4i/^^NE indulgence was allowed us by our keepers, 
V_>/ if indulgence it can be called. They had given 
permission for a boat to come alongside the ship, with 
a supply of a few necessary articles, to be sold to such 
of the prisoners as possessed the means of paying for 
them. This trade was carried on by a very corpulent 
old woman, known among us by the name of Dame 
Grant. Her visits, which were made every other day, 
were of much benefit to us, and, I presume, a source 
of profit to herself. She brought us soft bread and 
fruit, with various other articles, such as tea, sugar, 
etc., all of which she previously put up into small 
paper parcels, from one ounce to a pound in weight, 
with the price affixed to each, from which she would 
never deviate. The bulk of the old lady completely 
filled the stern sheets of the boat, where she sat, with 
her box of goods before her, from which she supplied 
us very expeditiously. Her boat was rowed by two 
boys, who delivered to us the articles we had pur- 
chased, the price of which we were required first to 
put into their hands. 

"When our guard was not composed of Refugees, 
we were usually permitted to descend to the foot of 
the Accommodation-ladder, in order to select from 
the boat such articles as we wished. While standing 
there it vv^as distressing to see the faces of hundreds 
of half-famished wretches, looking over the side of 
the ship into the boat, without the means of purchas- 
ing the most trifling article before their sight, not even 
so much as a morsel of wholesome bread. None of 



American Prisoners of the RevoIvUtion 361 

us possessed the means of generosity, nor had any 
power to afford them relief. Whenever I bought any 
articles from the boat I never enjoyed them; for it 
was impossible to do so in the presence of so many 
needy wretches, eagerly gazing at my purchase, and 
almost dying -for want of it. 

"We frequently furnished Dame Grant with a mem- 
orandum of such articles as we wished her to procure 
for us, such as pipes, tobacco, needles, thread, and 
combs. These she always faithfully procured and 
brought to us, never omitting the assurance that she 
afforded them exactly at cost. 

''Her arrival was always a subject of interest to 
us; but at length she did not make her appearance 
for several days, and her appearance w^as awaited in 
extreme anxiety. But, alas ! we were no longer to 
enjoy this little gratification. Her traffic was ended. 
She had taken the fever from the hulk, and died 
* * * leaving a void which was never afterwards 
filled up. 



CHAPTER XXXVIII 

The Supplies for the Prisoners 

i i A FTER the death of Dame Grant, we were under 
l\ the necessity of puchasing from the Sutler 
such small supplies as we needed. This man was one 
of the Mates of the ship, and occupied one of the 
apartments under the quarter-deck, through the bulk- 
head of which an opening had been cut, from which 
he delivered his goods. He here kept for sale a 
variety of articles, among which was usually a supply 
of ardent spirits, which was not allowed to be brought 
alongside the ship, for sale. It could, therefore, only 
be procured from the Sutler, whose price was two 
dollars per gallon. Except in relation to this article, 
no regular price Avas fixed for what he sold us. We 
were first obliged to hand him the money, and he 
then gave us such a quantity as he pleased of the arti- 
cle which we needed ; there was on our part no bargain 
to be made, but to be supplied even in this manner 
was, to those of us who had means of payment, a 
great convenience. * * * 

"Our own people afforded us no relief. O my coun- 
try! Why were we thus neglected in this hour of 
our misery, why was not a little food and raiment 
given to the dying martyrs of thy cause? 

"Although the supplies which some of us were en- 
abled to procure from the Sutler were highly condu- 
cive to our comfort, yet one most necessary article nei- 
ther himself nor any other person could furnish. This 
was wood for our daily cooking, to procure a sufii- 
cient quantity of Avhich was to us a source of contin- 
ual trouble and anxiety. The Cooks would indeed 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 363 

steal small quantities, and sell them to us at the haz- 
ard of certain punishment if detected; but it was not 
in their power to embezzle a sufficient quantity to 
meet our daily necessities. As the disgust at swal- 
lowing any food which had been cooked in the Great 
Copper was universal, each person used every exertion 
to procure as much wood as possible, for the private 
cooking of his own mess. 

"During my excursion to the shore to assist in the 
interment of Mr. Carver, it was my good fortune to 
find a hogshead stave floating in the water. This 
was truly a prize. I conveyed the treasure on board, 
and in the economical manner in which it was used, 
it furnished the mess to which I belonged with a sup- 
ply of fuel for a considerable time. 

"I was also truly fortunate on another occasion. 
I had, one day, commanded the Working-party, which 
was then employed in taking on board a sloop-load of 
wood for the sailor's use. This was carefully con- 
veyed below, under a guard, to prevent embezzlement. 
I nevertheless found means, with the assistance of 
my associates, to convey a cleft of it into the Gun- 
room, where it was immediately secreted. Our njess 
was thereby supplied with a sufficient quantity for a 
long time, and its members were considered by far the 
most wealthy persons in all this republic of misery. 
We had enough for our own use, and were enabled, 
occasionally, to supply our neighbors with a fev/ 
splinters. 

"Our mode of preparing the wood was to cut it 
with a jack-knife into pieces about four inches long. 
This labor occupied much of our time, and was per- 
formed by the different members of our mess in ro- 
tation, which employment was to us a source of no 
little pleasure. 



364 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

''After a sufficient quantity had been thus prepared 
for the next day's use, it was deposited in the chest. 
The main stock was guarded by day and night, with 
the most scrupulous and anxious care. We kept it 
at night within our enclosure, and by day it was al- 
ways watched by some one of its proprietors. So 
highly did we value it that we went into mathematical 
calculation to ascertain how long it would supply us, 
if a given quantity was each day consumed. 

OUR BY-LAWS 

"Soon after the Jersey was first used as a place of 
confinement a code of by-laws had been established 
by the prisoners, for their own regulation and govern- 
ment; to which a willing submission was paid, so far 
as circumstances would permit. I much regret my 
inability to give these rules verbatim, but I cannot at 
this distant period of time recollect them with a suffi- 
cient degree of distinctness. The}^ were chiefly di- 
rected to the preservation of personal cleanliness, and 
the prevention of immorality. For a refusal to com- 
ply with any of them, the refractory person was sub- 
jected to a stated punishment. It is an astonishing 
fact that any rules, thus made, should have so long ex- 
isted and been enforced among a multitude of men situ- 
ated as we were, so numerous and composed of that 
class of human beings who are not easily controlled, 
and usually not the most ardent supporters of good 
order. There were many foreigners among our num- 
ber, over whom we had no control, except so far as 
they chose, voluntarily, to submit to our regulations, 
which they cheerfully did, in almost every instance, 
so far as their condition would allow. Among our 
rules were the following: That personal cleanHness 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 365 

should be preserved, as far as was practicable; that 
profane language should be avoided ; that drunkenness 
should not be allowed; that theft should be severely 
punished, and that no smoking should be permitted 
between decks, by day or night, on account of the an- 
noyance which it caused the sick. 

"A due observance of the Sabbath was also strongly 
enjoined; and it was recommended to every individual 
to appear cleanly shaved on Sunday morning, and to 
refrain from all recreation during the day. 

"This rule was particularly recommended to the at- 
tention of the officers, and the remainder of the pris- 
oners were desired to follow their example. 

''Our By-laws were occasionally read to the as- 
sembled prisoners, and always whenever any person 
was to be punished for their violation. Theft or fraud 
upon the allowance of a fellow prisoner was always 
punished, and the infliction was always approved by 
the whole company. On these occasions the oldest 
officer among the prisoners presided as Judge. It re- 
quired much exertion for many of us to comply with 
the law prohibiting smoking between decks. Being 
myself much addicted to the habit of smoking, it 
would have been a great privilege to have enjoyed the 
liberty of thus indulging it, particularly during the 
night, while sitting by one of the air-ports ; but as this 
was inadmissible, I of course submitted to the prohibi- 
tion. * * * We were not allowed means of 
striking a fire, and were obliged to procure it from the 
Cook employed for the ship's offixers, through a small 
window in the bulkhead, near the caboose. After one 
had thus procured fire the rest were also soon sup- 
plied, and our pipes were all in full operation in the 
course of a few minutes. The smoke which rose 



366 American Prisoners of the Revoi^ution 

around us appeared to purify the pestilent air by 
which we were surrounded; and I attribute the pres- 
ervation of my health, in a great degree, to the ex- 
ercise of this habit. Our greatest difficulty was to 
procure tobacco. This, to some of the prisoners, was 
impossible, and it must have been an aggravation to 
their sufferings to see us apparently puffing away our 
sorrows, while they had no means of procuring the 
enjoyment of a similar gratification. 

"We dared not often apply at this Cook's caboose 
for fire, and the surly wretch would not willingly re- 
peat the supply. One morning I went to the window 
of his den, and requested leave to light my pipe, and 
the miscreant, without making any reply, threw a 
shovel full of burning cinders in my face. I was al- 
most blinded by the pain; and several days elapsed 
before I inlly regained my sight. My feelings on this 
occasion may be imagined, but redress was impossible, 
as we were allowed no means of even seeking it. I 
mention this occurrence to show to what a wretched 
condition we were reduced. 

THE ORATOR OF THE JERSEY 

"During the period of my confinement the Jer- 
sey was never visited by any regular clergyman, 
nor was Divine service ever performed on board, and 
among the whole multitude of prisoners there was 
but one individual who ever attempted to deliver a 
set speech, or to exhort his fellow sufferers. This 
individual was a young man named Cooper, whose 
station in life was apparently that of a com.mon sailor. 
* * "^ He evidently possessed talents of a very 
high order. His m.anners were pleasing, and he had 
every appearance of having received an excellent edu- 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 367 

cation. He was a Virginian; but I never learned the 
exact place of his nativity. He told us that he had 
been a very unmanageable youth, and that he had left 
his family, contrary to their wishes and advice; that 
he had been often assured by them that the Old Jer- 
sey would bring him up at last, and the Waleboght be 
his place of burial. 'The first of these predictions,' 
said he, 'has been verified ; and I care not how soon 
the second proves equally true, for I am prepared for 
the event. Death, for me, has lost its terrors, for with 
them I have been too long familiar.' 

"On several Sunday mornings Cooper harangued 
the prisoners in a very forcible yet pleasing manner, 
which, together with his language, made a lasting im- 
pression upon my memory. On one of these occa- 
sions, having mounted upon a temporary elevation 
upon the Spar-deck, he, in an audible voice, requested 
the attention of the prisoners, who having immediately, 
gathered around him in silence, he commenced his 
discourse. 

"He began by saying that he hoped no one would 
suppose he had taken that station by way of derision 
or mockery of the holy day, for that such was not his 
object; on the contrary he was pleased to find that the 
good regulations established by the former prisoners, 
obliged us to refrain even from recreation on the 
Sabbath; that his object, however, was not to preach 
to us, nor to discourse upon any sacred subject; he 
wished to read us our By-laws, a copy of which he 
held in his hand, the framers of which were then, in 
all probability, sleeping in death, beneath the sand of 
the shore before our eyes. That these laws had been 
framed in wisdom, and vv^ere well fitted to preserve 
order and decorum in a community like ours : that his 



368 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

present object was to impress upon our minds the 
absolute necessity of a strict adherence to those whole- 
some regulations ; that he should briefly comment upon 
each article, which might be thus considered as the 
particular text of that part of his discourse. 

"He proceeded to point out the extreme necessity 
of a full observance of these Rules of Conduct, and 
portrayed the evil consequences which would inevita- 
bly result to us if we neglected or suffered them to 
fall into disuse. He enforced the necessity of our un- 
remitting attention to personal cleanliness, and to the 
duties of morality; he dwelt upon the degradation 
and sin of drunkeness; described the meanness and 
atrocity of theft; and the high degree of caution 
against temptation necessary for men who were per- 
haps standing on the very brink of the grave; and 
added that, in his opinion, even sailors might as well 
refrain from profane language, while they were ac- 
tually suffering in Purgatory. 

"He said that our present torments, in that abode 
of misery, were a proper retribution for our former 
sins and transgressions ; that Satan had been permitted 
to send out his messengers and inferior demons in 
every direction to collect us together, and that among 
the most active of these infernal agents was David 
Sproat, Commissary of Prisoners. 

"He then made some just and suitable observations 
on the fortitude with which we had sustained the 
weight of our accumulated miseries; of our firmness 
in refusing to accept the bribes of our invaders, and 
desert the banners of our country. During this part 
of his discourse the sentinels on the gangways occa- 
sionally stopped and listened attentively. We much 
feared that by some imprudent remark, he might ex- 



American Prisoners of the Revoi^ution 369 

pose himself to their resentment, and cautioned him 
not to proceed too far. He repHed our keepers could 
do nothing more, unless they should put him to the 
torture, and that he should proceed. 

"He touched on the fact that no clergyman had 
ever visited us; that this was probably owing to the 
fear of contagion; but it was much to be regretted 
that no one had ever come to afford a ray of hope, or 
to administer the Word of Life in that terrific abode ; 
that if any Minister of the Gospel desired to do so, 
there could be no obstacles in the way, for that even 
David Sproat himself, bad as he was, would not dare 
to oppose it. 

"He closed with a merited tribute to the memory 
of our fellow-sufferers, who had already passed away. 
'The time,' said he, 'will come when their bones will 
be collected, when their rites of sepulchre will be per- 
formed, and a monument erected over the remains of 
those who have here suffered, the victims of barbar- 
ity, and who have died in vindication of the rights of 
man.' 

"The remarks of our Orator were well adapted to 
our situation, and produced much effect on the prison- 
ers, who at length began to accost him as Elder or 
Parson Cooper. But this he would not allow; and 
told us, if we would insist on giving him a title, we 
might call him Doctor, by which name he was ever aft- 
erwards saluted, so long as he remained among us. 

"He had been a prisoner for about the period of 
three months when one day the Commissary of Pris- 
oners came on board, accompanied by a stranger, and 
inquired for Cooper, who having made his appearance, 
a letter was put in his hand, which he perused, and 
immediately after left the ship, without even going be- 
—24 



370 American Prisoners of the Revoi^ution 

low for his clothing. While in the boat he waived his 
hand, and bade us be of good cheer. We could only 
return a mute farewell ; and in a few minutes the boat 
had left the ship, and was on its way to New York. 

"Thus we lost our Orator, for whom I had a very 
high regard, at the time, and whose character and 
manners have, ever since, been to me a subject of 
pleasing recollection. 

"Various were the conjectures which the sudden 
manner of his departure caused on board. Some as- 
serted that poor Cooper had drawn upon himself the 
vengeance of old Sproat, and that he had been carried 
on shore to be punished. No certain information was 
ever received respecting him, but I have always 
thought that he was u member of some highly influen- 
tial and respectable family, and that his release had 
been effected through the agency of his friends. 
This was often done by the influence of the Royal- 
ists or Refugees of New York, who were sometimes 
the connections or personal friends of those who applied 
for their assistance in procuring the liberation of a 
son or a brother from captivity. Such kind oflices 
were thus frequently rendered to those who had 
chosen opposite sides in the great revolutionary con- 
test, and to whom, though directly opposed to them- 
selves in political proceedings, they were willing to 
render every personal service in their power. 



CHAPTER XXXIX 

Fourth of July on the Jersey 

i i A FEW days before the fourth of July we had 
l\ made such preparations as our circum- 
stances would admit for an observance of the anni- 
versary of American Independence. We had pro- 
cured some supplies with which to make ourselves 
merry on the occasion, and intended to spend the day 
in such innocent pastimes as our situation would af- 
ford, not dreaming that our proceeding would give 
umbrage to our keepers, as it was far from our in- 
tention to trouble or insult them. We thought that, 
though prisoners, we had a right, on that day at least, 
to sing and be merry. As soon as we were permitted 
to go on deck in the morning thirteen little national 
flags were displayed in a row on the boom. We were 
soon ordered by the guards to take them away; and 
as we neglected to obey the comm.and, they triumph- 
antly demolished, and trampled them under foot. Un- 
fortunately for us our guards at that time were Scotch, 
who, next to the Refugees, were the objects of our 
greatest hatred; but their destruction of our flags was 
merely viewed in silence, with the contempt which it 
merited. 

''During the time we remained on deck several 
patriotic songs were sung, and choruses repeated; but 
not a word was intentionally spoken to give offence 
to our guards. They were, nevertheless, evidently dis- 
satisfied with our proceedings, as will soon appear. 
Their moroseness was a prelude to what was to fol- 
low. We were, in a short time, forbidden to pass 
along the common gangway, and every attempt to do 



372 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

so was repelled by the bayonet. Although thus in- 
commoded our mirth still continued. Songs were still 
sung, accompanied by occasional cheers. Things thus 
proceeded until about four o'clock; when the guards 
were ordered out, and we received orders to descend 
between decks, where we were immediately driven, at 
the point of the bayonet. 

"After being thus sent below in the greatest con- 
fusion, at that early and unusual hour, and having 
heard the gratings closed and fastened above us, we 
supposed that the barbarous resentment of our guards 
was fully satisfied; but we were mistaken, for they 
had further vengeance in store, and merely waited for 
an opportunity to make us feel its weight. 

"The prisoners continued their singing between 
decks, and were, of course, more noisy than usual, but 
forbore even under their existing temptations, to utter 
any insulting or aggravating expressions. At least, I 
heard nothing of the kind, unless our patriotic songs 
could be thus constructed. In the course of the even- 
ing we were ordered to desist from making any fur- 
ther noise. This order not being fully complied with,. 
at about nine o'clock the gratings were removed, and 
the guards descended among us, with lanterns and 
drawn cutlasses in their hands. The poor, helpless 
prisoners retreated from the hatchways, as far as their 
crowded situation would permit, while their cowardly 
assailants followed as far as they dared, cutting and 
wounding every one within reach, and then ascended 
to the upper deck, exulting in the gratification of their 
revenge. 

"Many of the prisoners were wounded, but from 
the total darkness, neither their number, nor their 
situation could be ascertained; and, if this had been 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 2>72> 

possible, it was not in the power of their compatriots 
to afford them the least relief. During the whole of 
that tragic night, their groans and lamentations were 
dreadful in the extreme. Being in the Gun-room I 
was at some distance from the immediate scene of 
this bloody outrage, but the distance was by no means 
far enough to prevent my hearing their continual cries 
from the extremity of pain, their appeals for assist- 
ance, and their curses upon the heads of their brutal 
assailants. 

''It had been the usual custom for each person to 
carry below, when he descended at sunset, a pint of 
water, to quench his thirst during the night. But, on 
this occasion, we had thus been driven to our dun- 
geon three hours before the setting of the sun, and 
without our usual supply of water. 

"Of this night I cannot describe the horror. The 
day had been sultry, and the heat w^as extreme through- 
out the ship. The unusual number of hours during 
which we had been crowded together between decks; 
the foul atmosphere and sickening heat ; the additional 
excitement and restlessness caused by the unwonted 
wanton attack which had been made; above all, the 
want of water, not a drop of which could be obtained 
during the whole night, to cool our parched lips; the 
imprecations of those who were half distracted with 
their burning thirst; the shrieks and wails of the 
wounded; the struggles and groans of the dying; to- 
gether formed a combination of horrors which no pen 
can describe. 

"In the agonies of their sufferings the prisoners in- 
vited, and even challenged their inhuman guards to 
descend once more among them, but this they were 
prudent enough not to attempt. 



374 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

"Their cries and supplications for water were ter- 
rible, and were of themselves sufficient to render sleep 
impossible. Oppressed with the heat, I found my way 
to the grating of the main hatchway, where on 
former nights I had frequently passed some time, for 
the benefit of the little current of air which circulated 
through the bars. I obtained a place on the larboard 
side of the hatchway, where I stood facing the East, 
and endeavored, as much as possible, to withdraw my 
attention from the terrible sounds below me, by 
watching, through the grating, the progress of the 
stars. I there spent hour after hour, in following 
with my eyes the motion of a particular star, as it rose 
and ascended until it passed over beyond my sight. 

"How I longed for the day to dawn ! At length the 
morning light began to appear, but still our torments 
were increasing every moment. As the usual hour for 
us to ascend to the upper deck approached, the Work- 
ing-party were mustered near the hatchway, and we 
were all anxiously waiting for the opportunity to cool 
our weary frames, to breathe for awhile the pure air, 
and, above all, to procure water to quench our intol- 
erable thirst. The time arrived, but still the gratings 
were not removed. Hour after hour passed on, and 
still we were not released. Our minds were at length 
seized with horror, suspicious that our tyrants had 
determined to make a finishing stroke of their cruelty, 
and rid themselves of us altogether. 

"It was not until ten o'clock in the forenoon that the 
gratings were at last removed. We hurried on deck 
and thronged to the water cask, which was completely 
exhausted before our thirst was allayed. So great 
was the struggle around the cask that the guards were 
again turned out to disperse the crowd. 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 375 

**In a few hours, however, we received a new sup- 
ply of water, but it seemed impossible to allay our 
thirst, and the applications at the cask were inces- 
sant until sunset. Our rations were delivered to us, 
but of course long after the usual hour. During the 
whole day, however, no fire was kindled for cooking 
in the galley. All the food which we consumed that 
day we were obliged to swallow raw. Everything, 
indeed, had been entirely deranged by the events of 
the past night, and several days elapsed before order 
was restored. This was at last obtained by a change 
of the guard, who, to our great joy, were relieved by 
a party of Hessians. The average number who died 
during a period of 24 hours on board the Jersey was 
about six,* but on the morning of the fifth of July 
eight or ten corpses were found below. Many had 
been badly wounded, to whom, in the total darkness 
of the night, it was impossible for their companions 
to render any assistance; and even during the next 
day they received no attention, except that which was 
afforded by their fellow prisoners, who had nothing 
to administer to their companions, not even bandages 
for their wounds. I was not personally acquainted 
with any of those who died or were wounded on th'at 
night. No equal number had ever died in the same 
period of time since my confinement. This unusual 
mortality was of course caused by the increased suf- 
ferings of the night. Since that time I have often, 
while standing on the deck of a good ship under my 
command, and viewing the rising stars, thought upon 
the horrors of that night, when I stood watching their 
progress through the gratings of the Old Jerse3% ^^^ 

*This was in 1782. The mortality had been much greater 
in former years. 



376 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

when I now contrast my former wretchedness with 
my present situation, in the full enjoyment of liberty, 
health, and every earthly comfort, I cannot but muse 
upon the contrast, and bless the good and great Be- 
ing from whom my comforts have been derived. I 
do not now regret my capture nor my sufferings, for 
the recollection of them has ever taught me how to 
enjoy my after life with a greater degree of content- 
ment than I should, perhaps, have otherwise ever ex- 
perienced. 



CHAPTER XL 

An Attempt to Escape 

i 4 1 T HAD been for some time in contemplation 
X among a few inmates of the Gun-room to make 
a desperate attempt to escape, by cutting a hole 
through the stern or counter of the ship. In order 
that their operations might proceed with even the 
least probability of success, it was absolutely neces- 
sary that but few of the prisoners should be admitted 
to the secret. At the same time it was impossible for 
them to make any progress in their labor unless they 
first confided their plan to all the other occupants of the 
Gun-room, which was accordingly done. In this part 
of the ship each mess was on terms of more or less 
intimacy with those whose little sleeping enclosures 
were immediately adjacent to their own, and the mem- 
bers of each mess frequently interchanged good offices 
with those in their vicinity, and borrowed or lent such 
little articles as they possessed, like the good house- 
wives of a sociable neighborhood. I never knew any 
contention in this apartment, during the whole period 
of my confinement. Each individual in the Gun-room 
therefore was willing to assist his comrades, as far 
as he had the power to do so. When the proposed 
plan for escape was laid before us, although it met the 
disapprobation of by far the greater number, still we 
were all perfectly ready to assist those who thought 
it practicable. We, however, described to them the 
difficulties and dangers which must unavoidably attend 
their undertaking; the prospect of detection while 
making the aperture in the immediate vicinity of 
such a multitude of idle men, crowded together, a 



378 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

large proportion of whom were always kept awake 
by their restlessness and sufferings during the night; 
the Httle probability that they would be able to travel, 
undiscovered, on Long Island, even should they suc- 
ceed in reaching the shore in safety; and above all, 
the almost absolute impossibility of obtaining food 
for their subsistence, as an application for that to our 
keepers would certainly lead to detection. But, not- 
withstanding all our arguments, a few of them re- 
mained determined to make the attempt. Their only 
reply to our reasoning was, that they must die if they 
remained, and that nothing worse could befall them 
if they failed in their undertaking. 

"One of the most sanguine among the adventurers 
was a young man named Lawrence, the mate of a ship 
from Philadelphia. He was a member of the mess 
next to my own, and I had formed with him a very 
intimate acquaintance. He frequently explained his 
plans to me; and dwelt m.uch on his hopes. But ar- 
dently as I desired to obtain my liberty, and great as 
were the exertions I could have made, had I seen any 
probability of gaining it, yet it was not my intention 
to join in this attempt. I nevertheless agreed to as- 
sist in the labor of cutting through the planks, and 
heartily wished, although I had no hope, that the en- 
terprise might prove successful. 

"The work was accordingly commenced, and the 
laborers concealed, by placing a blanket between them 
and the prisoners w^ithout. The counter of the ship 
was covered with hard oak plank, four inches thick; 
and through this we undertook to cut an opening suf- 
ficiently large for a man to descend; and to do this 
with no other tools than our jack knives and a single 
gimlet. All the occupants of the Gun-room assisted 



American Prisoners of the Revoi.ution 379 

in this labor in rotation; some in confidence that the 
plan was practicable, and the rest for amusement, or 
for the sake of being employed. Some one of our 
number was constantly at work, and we thus contin- 
ued, wearing a hole through the hard planks, from 
seam to seam, until at length the solid oak was worn 
away piecemeal, and nothing remained but a thin 
sheathing on the outside which could be cut away at 
any time in a few minutes, whenever a suitable oppor- 
tunity should occur for making the bold attempt to 
leave the ship. 

"It had been previously agreed that those who 
should descend through the aperture should drop into 
the water, and there remain until all those among the 
inmates of the Gun-room who chose to make the at- 
tempt could join them; and that the whole band of 
adventurers should then swim together to the shore,. 
which was about a quarter of a mile from the ship. 

"A proper time at length arrived. On a very dark 
and rainy night, the exterior sheathing was cut away ; 
and at midnight four of our number having disencum- 
bered themselves of their clothes and tied them across 
their shoulders, were assisted through the opening, 
and dropped one after another into the water. 

"Ill-fated men! Our guards had long been ac- 
quainted with the enterprise. But instead of taking 
any measures to prevent it, they had permitted us to go 
on with our labor, keeping a vigilant watch for the 
moment of our projected escape, in order to gratify 
their bloodthirsty wishes. No other motive than this 
could have prompted them to the course which they 
pursued. A boat was in waiting under the ship's 
quarter, manned with rowers and a party of the 
guards. They maintained a profound silence after 



380 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

hearing the prisoners drop from the opening, until 
having ascertained that no more would probably de- 
scend, they pursued the swimmers, whose course they 
could easily follow by the sparkling of the water, — an 
effect always produced by the agitation of the waves 
in a stormy night. 

"We were all profoundly silent in the Gun-room, 
after the departure of our companions, and in anxious 
suspense as to the issue of the adventure. In a few 
minutes we were startled by the report of a gun, which 
was instantly succeeded by a quick and scattering fire 
of musketry. In the darkness of the night, we could 
not see the unfortunate victims, but could distinctly 
hear their shrieks and cries for mercy. 

"The noise of the firing had alarmed the prisoners 
generally, and the report of the attempted escape and 
its defeat ran like wildfire through the gloomy and 
crowded dungeons of the hulk, and produced much 
commotion among the whole body of prisoners. In 
a few moments, the gratings were raised, and the 
guards descended, bearing" a naked and bleeding man, 
whom they placed in one of the bunks, and having 
left a piece of burning candle by his side, they again 
ascended to the deck, and secured the gratings. 

"Information of this circumstance soon reached 
the Gun-room; and myself, with several others of our 
number, succeeded in making our way through the 
crowd to the bunks. The wounded man was my 
friend, Lawrence. He was severely injured in many 
places, and one of his arms had been nearly severed 
from his body by the stroke of a cutlass. This, he 
said, was done in wanton barbarity, while he was cry- 
ing for mercy, with his hand on the gunwale of the 
boat. He was too much exhausted to answer any of 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 381 

our questions; and uttered nothing further, except a 
single inquiry respecting the fate of Nelson, one of 
his fellow adventurers. This we could not answer. 
Indeed, what became of the rest we never knew. They 
were probably all murdered in the water. This was the 
first time that I had ever seen a light between decks. 
The piece of candle had been left by the side of the 
bunk, in order to produce an additional effect upon 
the prisoners. Many had been suddenly awakened 
from their slumbers, and had crowded round the bunk 
where the sufferer lay. The effect of the partial light 
upon his bleeding and naked limbs, and upon the pale 
and haggard countenances, and tattered garments of 
the wild and crowded groups by whom he was sur- 
rounded, was horrid beyond description. We could 
render the sufferer but little assistance, being only 
able to furnish him with a few articles of apparel, and 
to bind a handkerchief around his head. His body 
was completely covered, and his hair filled with clot- 
ted blood ; we had not the means of washing the gore 
from his wounds during the night. We had seen many 
die, but to view this wretched man expire in that sit- 
uation, where he had been placed beyond the reach of 
surgical aid, merely to strike us with terror, was 
dreadful. 

"The gratings were not removed at the usual hour 
in the morning, but we were all kept below until ten 
o'clock. This mode of punishment had now become 
habitual with our keepers, and we were all frequently 
detained between decks until a late hour in the day, 
in revenge for the most trifling occasion. This cru- 
elty never failed to produce the torments arising from 
heat and thirst, with all their attendant miseries. 

''The immediate purpose of our tyrants having been 



382 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

answered by leaving J\lr. Lawrence below in that sit- 
uation they promised in the morning that he should 
have the assistance of a surgeon, but that promise was 
not fulfilled. The prisoners rendered him every at- 
tention in their power, but in vain. Mortification soon 
commenced; he became delirious and died. 

"No inquiry was made by our keepers respecting 
his situation. They evidently left him thus to suffer, 
in order that the sight of his agonies might deter the 
rest of the prisoners from following his example. 

"We received not the least reprimand for this 
transaction. The aperture was again filled up with 
plank and made perfectly secure, and no similar at- 
tempt to escape was made, — at least so long as I re- 
mained on board. 

"It was always in our power to knock down the 
guards and throw them overboard, but this would 
have been of no avail. If we had done so, and had 
effected our escape to Long Island, it would have 
been next to impossible for us to have proceeded any 
further among the number of troops there quartered. 
Of these there were several regiments, and among 
them the regiment of Refugees before mentioned, who 
were vigilant in the highest degree, and would have 
been delighted at the opportunity of apprehending and 
returning us to our dungeons. 

"There were, however, several instances of indi- 
viduals making their escape. One in particular, I well 
recollect, — ^James Pitcher, one of the crew of the 
Chance, was placed on the sick list and conveyed to 
Blackwell's Island. He effected his escape from thence 
to Long Island; from whence, after having used the 
greatest precaution, he contrived to cross the Sound, 
and arrived safe at home. He is now one of the three 
survivors of the crew of the Chance." 



CHAPTER XLI 

The Memorial to General Washington 

"The body maddened by the spirit's pain; 
The wild, wild working of the breast and brain; 
The haggard eye, that, horror widened, sees 
Death take the start of hunger and disease: 
Here, such were seen and heard; — so close at hand, 
A cable's length had reached them from the land; 
Yet farther ofif than ocean ever bore; — 
Eternity between them and the shore!" 

— W. Read. 

<4XTOTWITHSTANDING the destroying pesti- 
1 ^ lence which was now raging to a degree 
hitherto unknown on board, new companies of vic- 
tims were continually arriving; so that, although the 
mortality was very great, our numbers were increas- 
ing daily. Thus situated, and seeing no prospect of 
our liberty by exchange, we began to despair, and to 
believe that our certain fate was rapidly approaching. 
''One expedient was at length proposed among us 
and adopted. We petitioned General Clinton, who 
was then in command of the British forces at New 
York, for leave to transmit a ^lemorial to General 
W'ashington, describing our deplorable situation, and 
requesting his interference in our behalf. We further 
desired that our 3,Iemorial might be examined by the 
British General, and, if approved by him, that it 
might be carried by one of our own number to Gen- 
eral Washington. Cur petition was laid before the 
British commander and was granted by the Commis- 
sary of Prisoners. We received permission to choose 
three from our number, to vrhom was promised a 
pass-port, with leave to proceed immediately on their 
embassy. 



384 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

"Our choice was accordingly made, and I had the 
satisfaction to find that two of those elected were 
from among the former officers of the Chance, Cap- 
tain Aborn and our Surgeon, Mr. Joseph Bowen. 

"The Memorial was soon completed and signed in 
the name of all the prisoners, by a Committee ap- 
pointed for that purpose. It contained an account of 
the extreme wretchedness of our condition, and 
stated that although we were sensible that the sub- 
ject was one over which General Washington had no 
direct control, as it was not usual for soldiers to be 
exchanged for seamen, and his authority not extend- 
ing to the Marine Department of the American serv- 
ice; yet still, although it might not be in his power to 
effect an exchange, we hoped he would be able to de- 
vise some means to lighten or relieve our suiTerings. 

"Our messengers were further charged with a ver- 
bal commission to General Washington, which, for 
obvious reasons, was not included in the written Me- 
morial. They were directed to state, in a manner more 
circumstantial than we had dared to write, the pecu- 
liar horrors of our situation ; to discover the miserable 
food and putrid water on which we were doomed to 
subsist; and finally to assure the General that in case 
he could effect our release, we would agree to enter 
the American service as soldiers, and remain during 
the war. Thus instructed our messengers departed. 

"We waited in alternate hope and fear, the event of 
their mission. Most of our number, who were na- 
tives of the Eastern States, were strongly impressed 
with the idea that some means would be devised for 
our relief, after such a representation of our condi- 
tion should be made. This class of the prisoners, in- 
deed, felt most interested in the success of the appli- 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 385 

cation; for many of the sufferers appeared to give 
themselves but little trouble respecting it, and some 
among the foreigners did not commonly know that 
such an appeal had been made, or that it had even 
been in contemplation. The long endurance of their 
privations had rendered them almost indifferent to 
their fate, and they appeared to look forward to death 
as the only probable termination of their captivity. 

"In a few days our messengers returned to New 
York, with a letter from General Washington, ad- 
dressed to the Committee of Prisoners who had signed 
the Memorial. The prisoners were all summoned to 
the Spar-deck where this letter was read. Its purport 
was as follows : — That he had perused our communi- 
cation, and had received, with due consideration, the 
account which our messengers had laid before him; 
that he viewed our situation with a high degree of in- 
terest, and that although our application, as we had 
stated, was made in relation to a subject over which 
he had no direct control, yet that it was his intention 
to lay our Memorial before Congress; and that, in 
the mean time, we might be assured that no exertions 
on his part should be spared which could tend to a 
mitigation of our sufferings. 

"He observed to our messengers, during their in- 
terview, that our long detention in confinement was 
owing to a combination of circumstances, against 
which it was very difficult, if not impossible, to pro- 
vide. That, in the first place, but little exertion was 
made on the part of our countrymen to secure and de- 
tain their British prisoners for the sake of exchange, 
many of the British seamen being captured by priva- 
teers, on board which, he understood, it was a com- 
mon practice for them to enter as seamen; and that 
—25 



386 American Prisoners of the RevoIvUtion 

when this was not the case, they were usually set at 
liberty as soon as the privateers arrived in port; as 
neither the owners, nor the town or State where they 
were landed, would be at the expense of their con- 
finement and maintenance ; and that the officers of the 
General Government only took charge of those sea- 
men who were captured by the vessels in public serv- 
ice. All which circumstances combined to render the 
number of prisoners, at all times, by far too small for 
a regular and equal exchange. 

"General Washington also transmitted to our Com- 
mittee copies of letters which he had sent to General 
Clinton and to the Commissary of Prisoners, which 
were also read to us. He therein expressed an ardent 
desire that a general exchange of prisoners might be 
effected; and if this could not be accomplished, he 
wished that something might be done to lessen the 
weight of our sufferings, that, if it was absolutely 
necessary that we should be confined on the water, he 
desired that we might at least be removed to clean 
ships. He added if the Americans should be driven 
to the necessity of placing the British prisoners in sit- 
uations similar to our own, similar effects must be the 
inevitable results; and that he therefore hoped they 
would aff"ord us better treatment from motives of hu- 
manity. He concluded by saying, that as a corre- 
spondence on the subject had thus begun between 
them, he ardently wished it might eventually result in 
the liberation of the unfortunate men whose situation 
had called for its commencement. 

"Our three messengers did not return on board as 
prisoners, but were all to remain on parole at Flat- 
bush, on Long Island. 

"We soon found an improvement in our fare. The 
bread which we received was of a better quality, and 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 387 

we were furnished with butter, instead of rancid oil. 
An awning was provided, and a wind-sail furnished 
to conduct fresh air between the decks during the day. 
But of this we were always deprived at night, when 
we most needed it, as the gratings must always be 
fastened over the hatchway and I presume that our 
keepers were fearful if it was allowed to run, we 
might use it as a means of escape. 

"We were, however, obliged to submit to all our 
privations, consoling ourselves only with the faint 
hope that the favorable change in our situation, which 
we had observed for the last few days, might lead to 
something still more beneficial, although we saw little 
prospect of escape from the raging pestilence, except 
through the immediate interposition of divine Prov- 
idence, or by a removal from the scene of contagion." 

Note. From the New Jersey Gazette, July 24th, 
1782. "New London. July 21st. We are informed 
that Sir Guy Carleton has visited all the prison ships 
at New York, minutely examined into the situation 
of the prisoners, and expressed his intention of hav- 
ing them better provided for. That they were to be 
landed on Blackwell's Island, in New York harbour, 
in the daytime, during the hot season." 



CHAPTER XLII 

The Exchange 

iiOOON after Captain Aborn had been permitted 
O to go to Long Island on his parole, he sent a 
message on board the Jersey, informing us that his 
parole had been extended so far as to allow him to re- 
turn home, but that he should visit us previous to his 
departure. He requested our First Lieutenant, Mr. 
John Tillinghast, to provide a list of the names of 
those captured in the Chance who had died, and also 
a list of the survivors, noting where each survivor was 
then confined, whether on board the Jersey, or one of 
the Hospital ships. 

"He also requested that those of our number who 
wished to write to their friends at home, would have 
their letters ready for delivery to him, whenever he 
should come on board. The occupants of the Gun- 
room, and such of the other prisoners as could pro- 
cure the necessary materials were, therefore, soon 
busily engaged in writing as particular descriptions of 
our situation as they thought it prudent to do, without 
the risk of the destruction of the letters ; as we were 
always obliged to submit our writing for inspection 
previous to its being allowed to pass from the ship. 
We, however, afterwards regretted that on this occa- 
sion our descriptions were not more minute, as these 
letters were not examined. 

"The next day Captain Aborn came on board, ac- 
companied by several other persons, who had also been 
liberated on parole; but they came no nearer to the 
prisoners than the head of the gangway-ladder, and 
passed through the door of the barricado to the 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 389 

Quarter-deck. This was perhaps a necessary pre- 
caution against the contagion, as they were more Uable 
to be affected by it than if they had always remained 
on board ; but we were much disappointed at not hav- 
ing an opportunity to speak to them. Our letters were 
delivered to Captain Aborn by our Lieutenant, through 
whom he sent us assurances of his determination to 
do everything in his power for our relief, and that 
if a sufficient number of British prisoners could be 
procured, every survivor of his vessel's crew should 
be exchanged; and if this could not be effected we 
might depend upon receiving clothing and such other 
necessary articles as could be sent for our use. 

"About this time some of the sick were sent on shore 
on Blackwell's Island. This was considered a great 
indulgence. I endeavored to obtain leave to join them 
by feigning sickness, but did not succeed. 

"The removal of the sick was a great relief to us, 
as the air was less foul between decks, and we had 
more room for motion. Some of the bunks were re- 
moved, and the sick were carried on shore as soon as 
their condition was known. Still, however, the pesti- 
lence did not abate on board, as the weather was ex- 
tremely warm. In the daytime the heat was excess- 
ive, but at night it was intolerable. 

"But we lived on hope, knowing that, in all proba- 
bility, our friends at home had ere then been apprised 
of our condition, and that some relief might perhaps 
be soon afforded us. 

"Such was our situation when, one day, a short time 
before sunset, we described a sloop approaching us, 
with a white flag at her mast-head, and knew, by that 
signal, that she was a Cartel, and from the direction 
in which she came supposed her to be from some of 



390 A.MERICAN Prisoners of the Revolution 

the Eastern States. She did not approach near enough 
to satisfy our curiosity, until we were ordered below 
for the night. 

"Long were the hours of the night to the survivors 
of our crew. Slight as was the foundation on which 
our hopes had been raised, we had clung to them as 
our last resource. No sooner were the gratings re- 
moved in the morning than we were all upon deck, 
gazing at the Cartel. Her deck was crowded with men, 
whom we supposed to be British prisoners. In a few 
moments they began to enter the Commissary's boats, 
and proceeded to New York. 

''In the afternoon a boat from the Cartel came 
alongside the hulk, having on board the Commissary 
of Prisoners, and by his side sat our townsman. Cap- 
tain William Corey, who came on board with the joy- 
ful information that the sloop was from Providence 
with English prisoners to be exchanged for the crew 
of the Chance. The number which she had brought 
was forty, being more than sufficient to redeem every 
survivor of our crew then on board the Jersey. 

"I immediately began to prepare for my departure. 
Having placed the few articles of clothing which I 
possessed in a bag (for, by one of our By-laws, no 
prisoner, when liberated, could remove his chest) I 
proceeded to dispose of my other property on board, 
and after having made sundry small donations of less 
value, I concluded by giving my tin kettle to one of 
my friends, and to another the remnant of my cleft 
of firewood. 

"I then hurried to the upper deck, in order to be 
ready to answer to my name, well knowing that I 
should hear no second call, and that no delay would 
be allowed. 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 391 

''The Commissary and Captain Corey were stand- 
ing together on the Quarter-deck; and as the Hst of 
names was read, our Lieutenant, Mr. TilHnghast, was 
directed to say whether the person called was one of 
the crew of the Chance. As soon as this assurance 
was given, the individual was ordered to pass down, 
the Accommodation ladder into the boat. Cheer- 
fully was the word 'Here!' responded by each sur- 
vivor as his name was called. My own turn at; 
length came, and the Commissary pointed to the boat. 
I never moved with a lighter step, for that moment 
was the happiest of my life. In the excess and over- 
flowing of my joy, I even forgot, for awhile, the de- 
testable character of the Commissary himself, and 
even. Heaven forgive me! bestowed a bow upon him 
as I passed. 

"We took our stations in the boat in silence. No' 
congratulations were heard among us. Our feelings 
were too deep for utterance. For my own part, I 
could not refrain from bursting into tears of joy. 

"Still there were moments when it seemed impossi- 
ble that we were in reality without the limits of the 
Old Jersey. We dreaded the idea that some unfore- 
seen event might still detain us ; and shuddered with 
the apprehension that we might yet be returned to our 
dungeons. 

"When the Cartel arrived the surviving number of 
our crew on board the Old Jersey was but thirty-five. 
This fact being well known to Mr. TilHnghast, and 
finding that the Cartel had brought forty prisoners, he 
allowed five of our comrades in the Gun-room to 
answer to the names of the same number of our crew 
who had died; and having disguised them in the garb 
of common seamen, they passed unsuspected. 



392 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

"It was nearly sunset when we had all arrived on 
board the Cartel. No sooner had the exchange been 
completed than the Commissary left us, with our 
prayers that we might never behold him more. I then 
cast my eyes towards the hulk, as the horizontal rays 
of the sunset glanced on her polluted sides, where, 
from the bend upwards, filth of every description had 
been permitted to accumulate for years ; and the feel- 
ing of disgust which the sight occasioned was inde- 
scribable. The multitude on her Spar-deck and Fore- 
castle were in motion, and in the act of descending 
for the night; presenting the same appearance that 
met my sight when, nearly five months before, I had, 
at the same hour, approached her as a prisoner." 

It appears that many other seamen on board the 
Jersey and the Hospital ships were exchanged as a 
good result of the Memorial addressed to General 
Washington. An issue of the Royal Gazette of New 
York, published on the 17th of July, 1782, contains 
the following statement : 

"The following is a Statement of the Navy Pris- 
oners who have, within the last few days, been ex- 
changed and brought to this city, viz : 

"From Boston, 102 British Seamen. 
^'From Rhode Island, 40 British Seamen. 
"From New London, Conn., 84 British Seamen. 
"From Baltimore, Md., 23 British Seamen. 
"Total 249. 

"The exertions of those American Captains who 
published to the v/orld in this Gazette, dated July 3rd, 
the real state and condition of their countrymen, pris- 
oners here, and the true cause of their durance and 
sufferings, we are informed was greatly conducive to 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 393 

the bringing this exchange into a happy effect. We 
have only to lament that the endeavors of those who 
went, for the same laudable purpose, to Philadelphia, 
have not hitherto been so fortunate." 

This was published before the release of Captain 
Dring and the crew of the Chance, and shows that they 
were not the only prisoners who were so happy as to 
be exchanged that summer. It is possible that the 
crew of the Chance is referred to in this extract from 
the Pennsylvania Packet, Philadelphia, Thursday, Au- 
gust 15th, 1782: "Providence, July 27th. Sunday last a 
flag of truce returned here from New York, and 
brought 39 prisoners." 



CHAPTER XLIII 

The Cartel — Captain Dring's Narrative (Con- 
tinued) 

U/^AN HIS arrival in Providence Captain Aborn 
V^ had lost no time in making the details of our 
sufferings publicly known ; and a feeling of deep com- 
miseration was excited among our fellow citizens. 
Messrs. Clarke and Nightingale, the former owners 
of the Chance, in conjunction with other gentlemen, 
expressed their determination to spare no exertion or 
expense necessary to procure our liberty. It was 
found that forty British prisoners were at that time 
in Boston. These were immediately procured, and 
marched to Providence, where a sloop owned and com- 
manded by a Captain Gladding of Bristol was char- 
tered, to proceed with the prisoners forthwith to New 
York, that they might be exchanged for an equal 
number of our crew. Captain Corey was appointed 
as an Agent to effect the exchange, and to receive us 
from the Jersey ; and having taken on board a supply 
of good provisions and water, he hastened to our re- 
lief. He received much assistance in effecting his ob- 
ject from our townsman, Mr. John Creed, at that time 
Deputy Commissary of Prisoners. I do not recollect 
the exact day of our deliverance, but think it was early 
in the month of October. * * * We were obHged 
to pass near the shore of Blackwell's Island, where 
were several of our crew, who had been sent on shore 
among the sick. They had learned that the Cartel had 
arrived from Providence for the purpose of redeeming 
the crew of the Chance, and expected to be taken on 
board. Seeing us approaching they had, in order to 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 395 

cause no delay, prepared for their departure, and stood 
together on the shore, with their bundles in their 
hands; but, to their unutterable disappointment and 
dismay, they saw us pass by. We knew them and 
bitterly did we lament the necessity of leaving them 
behind. We. could only wave our hands as we passed; 
but they could not return the salutation, and stood as 
if petrified with horror, like statues fixed immovably 
to the earth, until we had vanished from their sight. 

"I have since seen and conversed with one of these 
unfortunate men, who afterwards made his escape^ 
He informed me that their removal from the Jersey 
to the Island was productive of the most beneficial 
effects upon their health, and that they had been ex- 
ulting at the improvement of their condition ; but their 
terrible disappointment overwhelmed them with de- 
spair. They then considered their fate inevitable, be- 
lieving that in a few days they must again be con- 
veyed on board the hulk; there to undergo all the 
agonies of a second death. * * h^ Several of our 
crew were sick when we entered the Cartel, and the 
sudden change of air and diet caused some new cases 
of fever. One of our number, thus seized by the 
fever, was a young man named Bicknell of Harrington, 
R. I. He was unwell when we left the Jersey, and 
his symptoms indicated the approaching fever; and 
when we entered Narragansett Bay, he was apparently 
dying. Being informed that we were in the Bay he 
begged to be taken on deck, or at least to the hatchway, 
that he might look once more upon his native land. 
He said that he was sensible of his condition ; that the 
hand of death was upon him; but that he was con- 
soled by the thought that he should be decently in- 
terred, and be suffered to rest among his friends and 



396 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

kindred. I was astonished at the degree of resignation 
and composure with which he spoke. He pointed to 
his father's house, as we approached it, and said it 
contained all that was dear to him upon earth. He 
requested to be put on shore. 

"Our Captain was intimately acquainted with the 
family of the sufferer; and as the wind was light we 
dropped our anchor, and complied with his request. 
He was placed in the boat, where I took a seat by his 
side; in order to support him; and, with two boys at 
the oars, we left the sloop. In a few minutes his 
strength began rapidly to fail. He laid his fainting 
head upon my shoulder, and said he was going to the 
shore to be buried with his ancestors ; that this had 
long been his ardent desire, and that God had heard 
his prayers. No sooner had we touched the shore 
than one of the boys was sent to inform his family of 
the event. They hastened to the boat to receive their 
long lost son and brother, but we could only give them 
his yet warm and lifeless corpse. 

Our Arrival Home 

''After remaining a few moments with the friends 
of our deceased comrade we returned to the sloop and 
proceeded up the river. It was about eight o'clock in 
the evening when we reached Providence. There 
were no quarantine regulations to detain us; but, as 
the yellow fever was raging among us, we took the 
precaution to anchor in the middle of the stream. It 
was a beautiful moonlit evening, and the intelligence 
of our arrival having spread through the town, the 
nearest wharf was in a short time crowded with people 
drawn together by curiosity, and a desire for informa- 
tion relative to the fate of their friends and connec- 
tions. 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 397 

"Continual inquiries were made from the anxious 
crowd on the land respecting the condition of several 
different individuals on board. At length the informa- 
tion was given that some of our number were below, 
sick with the yellow fever. No sooner was this fact 
announced than the wharf was totally deserted, and 
in a few moments not a human being remained in 
sight. The Old Jersey fever as it was called, was 
well known throughout the whole country. All were 
acquainted with its terrible effects ; and it was shunned 
as if its presence were certain destruction. 

"After the departure of the crowd, the sloop was 
brought alongside the wharf, and every one who could 
walk immediately sprang on shore. So great was the 
dread of the pestilence, and so squalid and emaciated 
were the figures which we presented, that those among 
us whose families did not reside in Providence found 
it almost impossible to gain admittance into any dwell- 
ing. There being at that time no hospital in or near 
the town, and no preparations having been made for 
the reception of the sick, they were abandoned for 
that night. They were, however, supplied in a few 
hours with many small articles necessary for their im- 
mediate comfort, by the humane people in the vicinity 
of the wharf. The friends of the sick who belonged 
in the vicinity of the town were immediately informed 
of our arrival, and in the course of the following day 
these were removed from the vessel. For the re- 
mainder of the sufferers ample provision was made 
through the generous exertions of Messrs. Clarke and 
Nightingale. 

"Solemn indeed are the reflections which crowd 
upon my mind as I review the events which are here 
recorded. Forty-two years have passed away since 



398 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

this remnant of our ill-fated crew were thus liberated 
from their wasting captivity. In that time what 
changes have taken place! Of their whole number 
but three are now alive. James Pitcher, Dr. Joseph 
Bowen, and myself, are the sole survivors. Of the 
officers I alone remain." 



CHAPTER XLIV 

Correspondence of Washington and Others 

GENERAL Washington cannot with justice be 
blamed for any part of the sufferings inflicted 
upon the naval prisoners on board the prison ships. 
Although he had nothing whatever to do with the 
American Navy, or the crews of privateers captured 
by the British, yet he exerted himself in every way 
open to him to endeavor to obtain their exchange, or, 
at least, a mitigation of their sufferings, and this in 
spite of the immense weight of cares and anxieties 
that devolved upon him in his conduct of the war. 
]\Iuch of his correspondence on the subject of these 
unfortunate prisoners has been given to the world. 
We deem it necessary, in a work of this character, to 
reproduce some of it here, not only because this cor- 
respondence is his most perfect vindication from the 
charge of neglect that has been brought against him, 
but also because it has much to do with the proper 
understanding of this chronicle. 

One of the first of the letters from which we shall 
quote was written by Washington from his head- 
quarters to Admiral Arbuthnot, then stationed at New 
York, on the 25th of Januar}- 1781. 

Sir: 

Through a variety of channels, representations of 
too serious a nature to be disregarded have come to 
us, that the American naval prisoners in the harbor 
of New York are suffering all the extremity of dis- 
tress, from a too crowded and in all respects disagree- 
able and unwholesome situation, on board the Prison- 
ships, and from the want of food and other necessa- 
ries. The picture given us of their suft'erings is truly 



400 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

calamitous and deplorable. If just, it is the obvious 
interest of both parties, omitting the plea of humanity, 
that the causes should be without delay inquired into 
and removed; and if false, it is equally desirable that 
effectual measures should be taken to obviate misap- 
prehensions. This can only be done by permitting an 
officer, of confidence on both sides, to visit the pris- 
oners in their respective confinements, and to examine 
into their true condition. This will either at once 
satisfy you that by some abuse of trust in the persons 
immediately charged with the care of the prisoners, 
their treatment is really such as has been described 
to us and requires a change; or it will convince us 
that the clamors are ill-grounded. A disposition to 
aggravate the miseries of captivity is too illiberal to 
be imputed to any but those subordinate characters, , 
who, in every • service, are too often remiss and un- 
principled. This reflection assures me that you will 
acquiesce in the mode proposed for ascertaining the 
truth and detecting delinquency on one side, or false- 
hood on the other. The discussions and asperities 
which have had too much place on the subject of pris- 
oners are so irksome in themselves, and have had so 
many ill consequences, that it is infinitely to be wished 
that there may be no room given for reviving them. 
The mode I have suggested appears to me calculated 
to bring the present case to a fair, direct, and satis- 
factory issue. I am not sensible of any inconvenience 
it can be attended with, and I therefore hope for your 
concurrence. 

I should be glad, as soon as possible, to hear from 
you on the subject. 

I have the honor to be, etc., 

George Washington. 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 401 

To this letter, written in January, Admiral Arbuth- 
not did not reply until the latter part of April. He 
then wrote: 

Royal Oak Office 
April 21st. 1781. 
Sir: 

If I had not been very busy when I received your 
letter dated the 25 of Jan. last, complaining of the 
treatment of the naval prisoners at this place, I cer- 
tainly should have answered it before this time; and, 
notwithstanding that I then thought, as I now do, that 
my own testimony would have been sufficient to put 
the truth past a doubt, I ordered the strictest scrutiny 
to be made into the condition of all parties concerned 
in the victualling and treatment of those unfortunate 
people. Their several testimonies you must have seen, 
and I give you my honor that the transaction was con- 
ducted with such strict care and impartiality that you 
may rely on its validity. 

Permit me now. Sir, to request that you will take 
the proper steps to cause Mr. Bradford, your Com- 
missary, and the Jailor at Philadelphia, to abate the 
inhumanity which they exercise indiscriminately upon 
all people who are so unfortunate as to be carried 
into that place. 

I will not trouble you, Sir, with a catalogue of 
grievances, further than to request that the unfortu- 
nate may feel as little of the severities of war as the 
circumstances of the time will permit, that in future 
they may not be fed in winter with salted clams, and 
that they may be afforded a sufficiency of fuel. 

I am, Sir, 
your most obdt and hble srvt 

M. Arbuthnot. 
—26 



402 American Prisoners of the Revoi^ution 

Probably the American prisoners would have been 
glad to eat salted clams, rather than diseased pork, 
and, as has been shown, they were sometimes frozen 
to death on board the prison ships, where no fire ex- 
cept for cooking purposes seems ever to have been al- 
lowed. 

In August, 1781, a committee appointed by Con- 
gress to examine into the condition of naval prisoners 
reported among other things as follows : "The Com- 
mittee consisting of Mr, Boudinot, Mr. Sharpe, Mr. 
Clymer, appointed to take into consideration the state 
of the American prisoners in the power of the enemy 
report : 

"That they have collected together and cursorily 
looked into various evidences of the treatment our 
unhappy fellow-citizens, prisoners with the enemy, 
have heretofore and do still meet with, and find the 
subject of so important and serious a nature as to de- 
mand much greater attention, and fuller consideration 
than the present distant situation of those confined 
on board the Prison-ships at New York will now ad- 
mit of, wherefor they beg leave to make a partial rep- 
resentation, and desire leave to sit again. * * *" 

PART OF THE REPORT OF THE COMMITTEE 

"A very large number of marine prisoners and citi- 
zens of these United States taken by the enemy, are 
now closely confined on board Prison-ships in the har- 
bor of New York. 

"That the said Prison-ships are so unequal in size 
to the number of prisoners, as not to admit of a pos- 
sibility of preserving life in this warm season of the 
year, they being crowded together in such a. manner 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 403 

as to be in danger of suffocation, as well as exposed 
to every kind of putrid, pestilential disorder : 

**That no circumstances of the enemy's particular 
situation can justify this outrage on humanity, it be- 
ing contrary to the usage and customs of civilizations, 
thus deliberately to murder their captives in cold 
blood, as the enemy will not assert that Prison-ships, 
equal to the number of prisoners, cannot be obtained 
so as to afford room sufficient for the necessary pur- 
poses of life: 

"That the enemy do daily improve these distresses 
to enlist and compel many of our citizens to enter on 
board their ships of war, and thus to fight against 
their fellow citizens, and dearest connections. 

"That the said Marine prisoners, until they can be 
exchanged should be supplied with such necessaries 
of clothing and provisions as can be obtained to mit- 
igate their present sufferings. 

"That, therefor, the Commander-in-chief be and 
he is hereby instructed to remonstrate to the proper 
officer within the enemy's lines, on the said unjusti- 
fiable treatment of our Marine prisoners, and demand, 
in the most express terms, to know the reasons of this 
unnecessary severity towards them ; and that the Com- 
mander-in-chief transmit such answer as may be re- 
ceived thereon to Congress, that decided measures for 
due retaliation may be adopted, if a redress of these 
evils be not immediately given. 

"That the Commander-in-chief be and he is hereby 
also instructed to direct to supply the said prisoners 
with such provisions and light clothing for their pre- 
sent more comfortable subsistence as may be in his 
power to obtain, and in such manner as he may judge 
most advantageous for the United States." 



404 American Prisoners of the RevoIvUtion 

Accordingly Washington wrote to the officer then 
commanding at New York, Commodore Affleck, as 
follows : 

Headquarters, August 21 1781 
Sir: 

The almost daily complaints of the severities ex- 
ercised towards the American marine prisoners in 
New York have induced the Hon. the Congress of the 
United States to direct me to remonstrate to the com- 
manding officer of his British Majesty's ships of war 
in the harbor upon the subject; and to report to them 
his answer. The principal complaint now is, the in- 
adequacy of the room in the Prison-ships to the num- 
ber of prisoners confined on board of them, which 
causes the death of many, and is the occasion of most 
intolerable inconvenience and distresses to those who 
survive. This line of conduct is the more aggrava- 
ting, as the want of a greater number of Prison-ships, 
or of sufficient room on shore, can hardly be pleaded 
in excuse. 

As a bare denial of what has been asserted by so 
many individuals who have unfortunately experienced 
the miseries I have mentioned, will not be satis- 
factory, I have to propose that our Commissary-gen- 
eral of prisoners, or any other officer, who shall be 
agreed upon, shall have liberty to visit the ships, in- 
spect the situation of the prisoners, and make a re- 
port, from an exact survey of the situation in which 
they may be found, whether, in his opinion, there has 
been any just cause of complaint. 

I shall be glad to be favored with an answer as 
soon as convenient. 

I have the honor to be 

yr most obdt srvt 
George Washington 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 405 

Affleck's reply 

New York 30 August 1781 
Sir: 

I intend not either to deny or to assert, for it will 
neither facilitate business, nor alleviate distress. The 
subject of your letter seems to turn on two points, 
namely the inconvenience and distresses which the 
American prisoners suffer from the inadequacy of 
room in the Prison-ships, which occasions the death 
of many of them, as you are told; and that a Com- 
missary-general of prisoners from you should have 
liberty to visit the ships, inspect the situation of the 
prisoners, and make a report from an actual survey. 
I take leave to assure you that I feel for the distresses 
of mankind as much as any man; and since my com- 
mission to the naval command of the department, one 
of my principal endeavors has been to regulate the 
Prison and hospital ships. * 

The Government having made no other provision 
for naval prisoners than shipping, it is impossible 
that the greater inconvenience which people confined 
on board ships experience beyond those confined on 
shore can be avoided, and a sudden accumulation of 
people often aggravates the evil. 

But I assure you that every attention is shown that 
is possible, and that the Prison-ships are under the 
very same Regulations here that have been constantly 
observed towards the prisoners of all nations in 
Europe. Tables of diet are publicly affixed; officers 
visit every week, redress and report grievances, and 
the numbers are thinned as they can provide shipping, 
and no attention has been wanting. 

The latter point cannot be admitted to its full ex- 
tent ; but if you think fit to send an officer of character 



406 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

to the lines for that purpose, he will be conducted to 
me, and he shall be accompanied by an officer, and be- 
come a witness to the manner in which we treat the 
prisoners, and I shall expect to have my officer visit 
the prisoners detained in your jails and dungeons in 
like manner, as well as in the mines, where I am in- 
formed many an unhappy victim languishes out his 
days. I must remark, had Congress ever been in- 
clined, they might have contributed to relieve the 
distress of those whom we are under the necessity of 
holding as prisoners, by sending in all in their posses- 
sion towards the payment of the large debt they 
owe us on that head, which might have been an in- 
ducement towards liberating many now in captivity. 
I have the honor to be, Sir, with due respect, etc, 

Edmund Affleck 

Much correspondence passed between the EngHsh 
and American Commissaries of Prisoners, as well as 
between Washington and the commanding officer at 
New York on the subject of the naval prisoners, but 
little good seems to have been effected thereby until 
late in the war, when negotiations for peace had al- 
most progressed to a finish. We have seen that, in 
the summer of 1782, the hard conditions on board 
the prison ships were in some measure mitigated, and 
that the sick were sent to Blackwell's Island, where 
they had a chance for life. We might go on present- 
ing much more of the correspondence on both sides, 
and detail all the squabbles about the number of pris- 
oners exchanged ; their treatment while in prison ; and 
other subjects of dispute, but the conclusion of the 
whole matter was eloquently written in the sands of 
the Wallabout, where the corpses of thousands of vic- 
tims to British cruelty lay for so many years. We 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 407 

will therefore give only a few further extracts from 
the correspondence and reports on the subject, as so 
much of it was tedious and barren of any good re- 
sult. 

In December of the year 1781 Washington, on 
whom the duty devolved of writing so many of the 
letters, and receiving so many insulting replies, wrote 
to the President of Congress as follows : 

"I have taken the liberty of enclosing the copies of 
two letters from the Commissary-general of Pris- 
oners setting forth the debt which is due from us on 
account of naval prisoners ; the number remaining 
in captivity, their miserable situation, and the little 
probability there is of procuring their release for the 
want of proper subjects in our hands. 

"Before we proceed into an inquiry into the meas- 
ures that ought to be adopted to enable us to pay our 
debt, and to affect the exchange of those who still re- 
main in captivity, a matter v/hich it may take some 
time to determine, humanity and policy point out the 
necessity of administering to the pressing wants of a 
number of the most valuable subjects of the republic. 

"Had they been taken in the Continental service, I 
should have thought myself authorized in conjunction 
with the Minister of War to apply a remedy, but as 
the greater part of them were not thus taken, as ap- 
pears by Mr. Skinner's representation, I must await 
the decision of Congress upon the subject. 

"Had a system, some time ago planned by Congress 
and recommended to the several States, been adopted 
and carried fully into execution, I mean that of oblig- 
ing all Captains of private vessels to deliver over 
their prisoners to the Continental Commissioners upon 
certain conditions, I am persuaded that the num^bers 



408 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

taken and brought into the many ports of the United 
States would have amounted to a sufficiency to have 
exchanged those taken from us; but instead of that, 
it is to be feared, that few in proportion were se- 
cured, and that the few who are sent in, are so par- 
tially applied, that it creates great disgust in. those re- 
maining. The consequence of which is, that conceiv- 
ing themselves neglected, and seeing no prospect of 
relief, many of them entered into the enemy's service, 
to the very great loss of our trading interest. Con- 
gress will, therefore, I hope, see the necessity of re- 
newing their former, or making some similar recom- 
mendation to the States. 

''In addition to the motives above mentioned, for 
wishing that the whole business of prisoners of war 
might be brought under one general regulation, there 
is another of no small consideration, which is, that it 
would probably put a stop to those mutual complaints 
of ill treatment which are frequently urged on each 
part. For it is a fact that, for above tw^o years, we 
have had no occasion to complain of the treatment of 
the Continental land prisoners in New York, neither 
have we been charged with any improper conduct to- 
wards those in our hands. I consider the sufferings 
of the seamen, for some time past, as arising in great 
measure from the want of that general regulation 
which has been spoken of, and without which there 
will constantly be a great number remaining in the 
hands of the enemy. * * *" 

Again in February of the year 1782 Washington 
wrote to Congress from Philadelphia as follows : 

Feb. 18, 1782. 
* * * "]\Ir. Sproat's proposition of the ex- 
change of British soldiers for American seamen, 



AmeriCx\n Prisoners of the Revolution 409 

if acceded to, will immediately give the enemy 
a very considerable re-enforcement, and will be a con- 
stant draft hereafter upon the prisoners of war in 
our hands. It ought also to be considered that few 
or none of the Continental naval prisoners in New 
York or elsewhere belong to the Continental service. 
I, however, feel for the situation of these unfortu- 
nate people, and wish to see them relieved by any 
mode, which will not materially affect the pubHc 
good. In some former letters upon this subject I have 
mentioned a plan, by which I am certain they might 
be liberated nearly as fast as they are captured. It 
is by obliging the Captains of all armed vessels, both 
public and private, to throw their prisoners into com- 
mon stock, under the direction of the Commissary- 
general of prisoners. By this means they would be 
taken care of, and regularly applied to the exchange 
of those in the hands of the enemy. Now the greater 
part are dissipated, and the few that remain are ap- 
pHed partially. * * *" 

James Rivington edited a paper in New York dur- 
ing the Revolution, and, in 1782, the American pris- 
oners on board the Jersey addressed a letter to him 
for publication, which is given below. 

"On Board the Prison-ship Jersey, June 11, 1782. 
"Sir: 

Enclosed are five letters, which if you will give 
a place in your newspaper will greatly oblige a num- 
ber of poor prisoners who seem to be deserted by our 
oviti countrymen, who has it in their power, and will 
not exchange us. In behalf of the whole we beg 



410 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

leave to subscribe ourselves, Sir, yr much obliged 

srvts, 

"John Cooper 
"John Sheffield 
"Wilham Chad 
"Richard Eccleston 
"John Baas" 

ENCLOSURES OF THE FOREGOING LETTER 

David Sproat, Commissary of Prisoners, to the 
prisoners on board the Jersey, New York. 

"June 11 1782 
"This w^ill be handed you by Captain Daniel Aborn, 
and Dr. Joseph Bowen, who, agreeable to your peti- 
tion to his Excellency, Rear-Admiral Digby, have 
been permitted to go out, and are now returned from 
General Washington's Head-quarters, where they de- 
livered your petition to him, representing your dis- 
agreeable situation at this extreme hot season of the 
year, and in your names solicited his Excellency to 
grant your speedy rehef, by exchanging you for a 
part of the British soldiers m his hands, the only pos- 
sible means in his power to effect it. Mr. Aborn and 
the Doctor waits on you with his answer, which I am 
sorry to say is a flat denial. 

"Enclosed I send you copies of three letters which 
have passed between Mr. Skinner and me, on the oc- 
casion, which will convince you that everything has 
been done on the part of Admiral Digby, to bring 
about a fair and general exchange of prisoners on 
both sides. I am 

"your most hble Srvt, 

"David Sproat 
"Comm. Gen. for Naval Prisoners." 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 41 1 

enclosures sent by d. sproat 
David Sproat to Abraham Skinner, American Com- 
missary of Prisoners. 

New York 1st June 1782 
"Sir: 

"When I last saw you at EHzabeth Town I men- 
tioned the bad consequences which, in all probability, 
would take place in the hot weather if an exchange of 
prisoners was not agreed to by the commissioners on 
the part of General Washington. His Excellency 
Rear- Admiral Digby has ordered me to inform you, 
that the very great increase of prisoners and heat of 
the weather now baffles all our care and attention to 
keep them healthy. Five ships have been taken up 
for their reception, to prevent being crowded, and a 
great number permitted to go on parole. 

"In Winter, and during the cold weather, they lived 
comfortably, being fully supplied with warm cloath- 
ing, blankets, etc, purchased with the money which I 
collected from the charitable people of this city; but 
now the weather requires a fresh supply — something 
light and suitable for the season — for which you will 
be pleased to make the necessary provision, as it is 
impossible for them to be healthy in the rags they 
now wear, without a single shift of cloathing to keep 
themselves clean. Humanity, sympathy, my duty and 
orders obliges me to trouble you again on this dis- 
agreeable subject, to request you will lose no time in 
laying their situation before his Excellency General 
Washington, who, I hope, will listen to the cries of a 
distressed people, and grant them, (as well as the 
British prisoners in his hands) relief, by consenting 
to a general and immediate exchange. 

"I am, sir, etc, 
"David Sproat." 



412 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

It is scarcely necessary to point out to the intelligent 
reader the inconsistencies in this letter. The comforta- 
ble prisoners, abundantly supplied with blankets and 
clothing in the winter by the charity of the citizens of 
New York, were so inconsiderate as to go on starving 
and freezing to death throughout that season. Not 
only so, but their abundant supply of clothing was re- 
duced to tattered rags in a surprisingly short time, 
and they were unable to be healthy, "without a single 
shift of clothing to keep themselves clean." 

We have already seen to what straits they were in 
reality reduced, in spite of the private charity of the 
citizens of New York. We do not doubt that the few 
blankets and other new clothing, if any such were 
ever sent on board the Jersey, were the gifts of pri- 
vate charity, and not the donation of the British Gov- 
ernment. 

No one, we believe, can blame General Washing- 
ton for his unwillingness to add to the British forces 
arrayed against his country by exchanging the cap- 
tured troops in the hands of the Americans for the 
crews of American privateers, who were not in the 
Continental service. As we have already seen, the 
blame does not rest with that great commander, whose 
compassion never blinded his judgment, but with the 
captains and owners of American privateers them- 
selves, and often with the towns of New England, 
who were unwilling to burden themselves with pris- 
oners taken on the ocean. 

The next letter we will quote is the answer of Com- 
missary Skinner to David Sproat: 

"New York June 9th. 1782 
"Sir: 

From the present situation of the American na- 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 413 

val prisoners on board your prison-ships, I am in- 
duced to propose to you the exchange of as many as 
I can give you British naval prisoners for, leaving 
the balance already due you to be paid when in our 
power. I could wish this to be represented to his 
Excellency, Rear Admiral Digby, and that the pro- 
posal could be acceded to, as it would relieve many 
of these distrest men and be consistent with the hu- 
mane purposes of our office. 

"I will admit that we are unable at present to give 
you seaman for seaman, and thereby reHeve the 
prison-ships of their dreadful burthen, but it ought 
to be remembered there is a large balance of British 
soldiers due to the United States, since February last, 
and that as we have it in our power we may be dis- 
posed to place the British soldiers who are now in our 
possession in as disagreeable a situation as those men 
are on board the prison ships. 

"I am yr obdt hble srvt 
"Abraham Skinner" 

COMMISSARY SPROAT'S REPIvY 

"New York June 9th 1782 
"Sir: 

"I have received your letter of this date and laid 
it before his Excellency Rear Admiral Digby, Com- 
mander in charge, etc, who has directed me to give for 
answer that the balance of prisoners, owing to the 
British having proceeded, from lenity and humanity, 
on the part of himself and those who commanded be- 
fore his arrival, is surprized you have not been in- 
duced to offer to exchange them first; and until this 
is done can't consent to your proposal of a partial ex- 



414 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

change, leaving the remainder as well as the British 
prisoners in your hands, to linger in confinement. 
Conscious of the American prisoners under my direc- 
tion, being in every respect taken as good care of as 
their situation and ours will admit. You must not 
believe that Admiral Digby will depart from the jus- 
tice of this measure because you have it in your power 
to make the British prisoners with you more miser- 
able than there is any necessity for. I am, Sir, 

''yr hble servt 
"David Sproat." 

The prisoners on board the Jersey published in the 
Royal Gazette the following 

address to their countrymen 

"Prison Ship Jersey, June 11th 1782 
''Friends and Fellow Citizens of America: 

"You may 
bid a final adieu to all your friends and relatives who 
are now on board the Jersey prison ships at New 
York, unless you rouse the government to comply 
with the just and honorable proposals, which has al- 
ready been done on the part of Britons, but alas ! it is 
with pain we inform you, that our petition to his Ex- 
cellency General Washington, offering our services 
to the country during the present campaign, if he 
would send soldiers in exchange for us, is frankly 
denied. 

"What is to be done ? Are we to lie here and share 
the fate of our unhappy brothers who are dying 
daily? No, unless you relieve us immediately, we 
shall be under the necessity of leaving our country, 
in preservation of our lives. 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 415 

''Signed in behalf of prisoners 

"John Cooper 
"John Sheffield 
"William Chad 
"Richard Eccleston 
"George Wanton 
"John Baas. 
"To Mr James Rivington, Printer N. Y." 

This address was reproduced in Hugh Gaines's 
New York Gazette, June 17, 1782. 

Whether the John Cooper who signed his name to 
this address is the Mr. Cooper mentioned by Dring 
as the orator of the Jersey we do not know, but it is 
not improbable. Nine Coopers are included in the 
list, given in the appendix to this volume, of prison- 
ers on the Jersey, but no John Cooper is among them. 
The list is exceedingly imperfect. Of the other 
signers of the address only two, George Wanton and 
John Sheffield, can be found within its pages. It is 
very certain that it is incomplete, and it probably does 
not contain more than half the names of the prison- 
ers who suffered on board that dreadful place. David 
Sproat won the hatred and contempt of all the Ameri- 
can prisoners who had anything to do with him. One 
of his most dastardly acts was the paper which he 
drew up in June, 1782, and submitted to a number of 
American sea captains for their signature, which he 
obtained from them by threats of taking away their 
parole in case of their refusal, and sending them back 
to a captivity worse than death. This paper, which 
they signed without reading, was to the following 
effect : 



416 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

LETTER purporting TO BE FROM A COMMITTEE OF CAP- 
TAINS, NAVAL PRISONERS OF WAR TO J. RIVINGTON, 
WITH A REPRESENTATION OF A COMMITTEE ON THE 
CONDITION OF THE PRISONERS ON BOARD THE JER- 
SEY 

New York, June 22, 1782. 
Sir: 

We beg you will be pleased to give the inclosed 
Report and Resolve of a number of Masters of Ameri- 
can Vessels, a place in your next Newspaper, for the 
information of the public. In order to undeceive 
numbers of our countrymen without the British lines, 
who have not had an opportunity of seeing the state 
and situation of the prisoners of New York as we 
have done. We are, Sir, 

yr most obdt, hble srvts, 

Robert Harris, Captain of the sloop Industry 

John Chace 

Charles Collins, Captain of the Sword-fish 

Philemon Haskell 

Jonathan Carnes 

REPORT 

"We whose names are hereunto subscribed, late 
Masters of American vessels, which have been cap- 
tured by the British cruisers and brought into this 
port, having obtained the enlargement of our paroles 
from Admiral Digby, to return to our respective 
homes, being anxious before our departure to know 
the true state and situation of the prisoners confined 
on board the prison ships and hospital ships for that 
purpose, have requested and appointed six of our 
number, viz, R. Harris, J. Chace, Ch. Collins, P. 
Haskell, J. Carnes and Christopher Smith, to go on 
board the said prison ships for that purpose and the 



American Prisoners of the Revoi^ution 417 

said six officers aforesaid having gone on board five 
of the vessels, attended by Mr. D. Sproat, Com. Gen. 
for Naval Prisoners, and Mr. George Rutherford, 
Surgeon to the hospital ships, do report to us that 
they have found them in as comfortable a situation 
as it is possible for prisoners to be on board of ships 
at this season of the year, and much more so than 
they had any idea of, and that anything said to the 
contrary is false and without foundation. That they 
inspected their beef, pork, flour, bread, oatmeal, 
pease, butter, liquors, and indeed every species of pro- 
visions which is issued on board his British Majesty's 
ships of war, and found them all good of their kind, 
which survey being made before the prisoners, they 
acknowledged the same and declared they had no 
complaint to make but the want of cloaths and a 
speedy exchange. We therefore from this report 
and what we have all seen and known. Do Declare 
that great commendation is due to his Excellency 
Rear Admiral Digby, for his humane disposition and 
indulgence to his prisoners, and also to those he en- 
trusts the care of them to; viz: To the Captain and 
officers of his Majesty's prison-ship Jersey, for their 
attention in preserving good order, having the ship 
kept clean and awnings spread over the whole of her, 
fore and aft: To Dr Rutherford, and the Gentlemen 
acting under him * * * ^ foj- their constant care 
and attendance on the sick, whom we found in whole- 
some, clean sheets, also covered with awnings, fore 
and aft, every man furnished with a cradle, bed, and 
sheets, made of good Russia linen, to lay in; the best 
of fresh provisions, vegetables, wine, rice, barley, etc, 
which was served out to them. And we further do 
declare in justice to Mr. Sproat, and the gentlemen 
-27 



418 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

acting under him in his department, that they con- 
scientiously do their duty with great humanity and 
indulgence to the prisoners, and reputation to them- 
selves; And we unanimously do agree that nothing is 
wanting to preserve the lives and health of those un- 
fortunate prisoners but clean cloaths and a speedy 
exchange, which testimony we freely give without 
restriction and covenant each with the other to en- 
deavor to effect their exchange as soon as possible: 

For the remembrance of this our engagement we 
have furnished ourselves with copies of this instru- 
ment of writing. Given under our hands in New 
York the 22 of June, 1782. 

Signed : 

Robert Harris 
John Chace 
Charles Collins 
Philemon Haskell 
J. Carnes 

Christopher Smith 
James Gaston 
John Tanner 
Daniel Aborn 
Richard Mumford 
Robert Clifton 
John McKeever 
Dr. J. Bowen. 

The publication of this infamously false circular 
roused much indignation among patriotic Americans, 
and no one believed it a trustworthy statement. The 
Independent Chronicle, in its issue for August, 1782, 
had the following refutation :* 

*This letter is said to have been written by Captain 
Manly, five times a prisoner during the Revolution. 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 419 

'*Mr Printer: 

"Happening to be at Mr. Bracket's tavern last 
Saturday, and hearing two gentlemen conversing on 
the surprising alteration in regard to the treatment 
our prisoners met with in New York, and as I have 
had the misfortune to be more than once a prisoner 
in England, and in different prison-ships in New 
York, and having suffered everything but death, I 
cannot help giving all attention to anything I hear or 
read relative to the treatment our brave countrymen 
met with on board the prison-ships of New York. 
One of the gentlemen observed that the treatment of 
our prisoners must certainly be much better, as so 
many of our commanders had signed a paper that 
was wrote by Mr. David Sproat, the commissary of 
naval prisoners in New York. The other gentleman 
answered and told him he could satisfy him in re- 
gard to the matter, having seen and conversed with 
several of the Captains that signed Mr. Sproat's 
paper, who told him that, although they had put their 
names to the paper that Mr. Sproat sent them on 
Long Island, where they were upon parole, yet it was 
upon these conditions they did it : in order to have 
leave to go home to their wives and families, and not 
l)e sent on board the prison-ships, as Mr. Sproat had 
threatened to do if they refused to sign the paper 
that he sent them. These captains further said, that 
they did not read the paper nor hear it read. The 
gentleman then asked them how they could sign their 
names to a paper they did not read; they said it was 
because they might go home upon parole. He asked 
one of them why he did not contradict it since it had 
appeared in the public papers, and was false: he 
said he dare not at present, for fear of being recalled 



420 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

and sent on board the prison-ship, and there end his 
days: but as soon as he was exchanged he would do 
it. If this gentleman, through fear, dare not contra- 
dict such a piece of falsehood, I dare, and if I was 
again confined on board the prison-ship in New York^ 
dare again take the boat and make my escape, al- 
though at the risk of my life. 

"Some of the captains went on board the prison- 
ship with Mr. Sproat, a few moments, but did not 
go off the deck. 

"In justice to myself and country I am obliged to 
publish the above. 

"Captain Rover." 

Besides this refutation of Sproat's shameful trick 
there were many others. The Pennsylvania Packet 
of Tuesday, Sept. 10, 1782, published an affidavit 
of John Kitts, a former prisoner on board the Jersey. 

"The voluntary affidavit of John Kitts, of the city 
of Phila., late mate of the sloop Industry, com- 
manded by Robert Harris, taken before the sub- 
scriber, chief justice of the commonwealth of Pa., 
the 16th day of July, 1782. — This deponent saith^ 
that in the month of November last he was walking 
in Front St. with the said Harris and saw in his hand 
a paper, which he told the deponent that he had re- 
ceived from a certain Captain Kuhn, who had been 
lately from New York, where he had been a prisoner, 
and that this deponent understood and believed it was 
a permission or pass to go to New York with any ves- 
sel, as it was blank and subscribed by Admiral Ar- 
buthnot: that he does not know that the said Robert 
Harris ever made any im^proper use of said paper."" 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 421 

affidavit of john cochran, denying the truth 
of the statements contained in the re- 
port of the committee of captains 

From the Pennsylvania Packet, Phila., Tuesday, 
Sept. 10, 1782. 

''The voluntary Affidavit of John Cochran, of the 
city of Phila., late mate of the ship, Admiral Yout- 
man, of Phila., taken before the subscriber, the 16 
day of July, 1782. 

"The said deponent saith, that he was taken pris- 
oner on board the aforesaid ship on the 12 of March 
last by the ship Garland, belonging to the king of 
Great Britain, and carried into the city of New York, 
on the 15 of the same month, when he was immedi- 
ately put on board the prison-ship Jersey, with the 
whole crew of the Admiral Youtman, and was close 
confined there until the first day of this month, when 
he made his escape; that the people on board the 
said prison-ship were very sickly insomuch that he 
is firmly persuaded, out of near 1000 persons, per- 
fectly healthy when put on board the same ship, dur- 
ing the time of his confinement on board, there are 
not more than but three or four hundred now alive ; 
that when he made his escape there were not three 
hundred men well on board, but upward of 140 very 
sick, as he understood and was informed by the phy- 
sicians: that there were five or six men buried daily 
under a bank on the shore, without coffins; that all 
the larboard side of the said ship was made use of 
as a hospital for the sick, and was so offensive that 
he was obliged constantly to hold his nose as he 
passed from the gun-room up the hatchway; that he 
seen maggots creeping out of a wound of one Sulli- 
van's shoulder, who was the mate of a vessel out of 



422 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

Virginia; and that his wound remained undressed 
for several days together; that every man was put 
into the hold a little after sundown every night, and 
the hatches put over him ; and that the tubs which were 
kept for the use of the sick * * * were placed 
under the ladder from the hatchway to the hold, and 
so offensive day and night, that they were almost in- 
tolerable, and increased the number of the sick daily. 
The deponent further saith, that the bilge water was 
very injurious in the hold, was muddy and dirty, and 
never was changed or sweetened during the whole 
time he was there, nor, as he was informed and be- 
lieves to be true, for many years before; for fear, as 
it was reported, the provisions might be injured 
thereby; that the sick in the hospital part of the said 
ship Jersey, had no sheets of Russia, or any other 
linen, nor beds nor bedding furnished them; and 
those who had no beds of their own, of whom there 
were great numbers, were not even allowed a ham- 
mock, but were obliged to lie on the planks ; that he 
was on board the said prison ship when Captain Rob- 
ert Harris and others, with David Sproat, the com- 
missary of prisoners, came on board her, and that 
none of them went or attempted to go below decks, in 
said ship, to see the situation of the prisoners, nor did 
they ask a single question respecting the matter, to 
this deponent's knowledge or belief; for that he was 
present the whole time they were on board, and fur- 
ther the deponent saith not. 

"John Cochran" 
'Theodore McKean C. J. 

It seems singular that Sproat should have resorted 
to such a contemptible trick, which deceived few if 
any persons, for the reputation of the Jersey was too 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 423 

notorious for such a refutation to carry weight on 
either side. 

In the meantime the mortality on board continued, 
and, by a moderate computation, two-thirds of her 
w^retched occupants died and were buried on the shore, 
their places being taken by fresh victims, from the 
many privateers that were captured by the British al- 
most daily. 



CHAPTER XLV 

Generai, Washington and Rear Admirai, Digby — 
Commissaries Sproat and Skinner 

WASHINGTON'S best vindication against the 
charge of undue neglect of American prison- 
ers is found in the correspondence on the subject. We 
will therefore give his letter to Rear Admiral Digby, 
after his interview with the committee of three sent 
from the Jersey to complain of their treatment by the 
British, and to endeavor to negotiate an exchange. 

general WASHINGTON TO REAR ADMIRAL DIGBY 

Head-Quarters, June 5 1782 
Sir: 

By a parole, granted to two gentlemen, Messrs. 
Aborn and Bowen, I perceive that your Excellency 
granted them permission to come to me with a rep- 
resentation of the sufferings of the American prison- 
ers at New York. As I have no agency on Naval 
matters, this application to me is made on mistaken 
grounds. But curiosity leading me to enquire into 
the nature and cause of their sufferings, I am informed 
that the prime complaint is that of their being 
crowded, especially at this season, in great numbers 
on board of foul and infected prison ships, where 
disease and death are almost inevitable. This cir- 
cumstance I am persuaded needs only to be mentioned 
to your Excellency to obtain that redress which is in 
your power only to afford, and which humanity so 
strongly prompts. 

If the fortune of war, Sir, has thrown a number 
of these miserable people into your hands, I am cer- 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 425 

tain your Excellency's feelings for fellowmen must 
induce you to proportion the ships (if they must be 
confined on board ships), to their accommodation and 
comfort, and not, by crowding them together in a few, 
bring on disorders which consign them, by half a 
dozen a day, to the grave. 

The soldiers of his British Majesty, prisoners with 
us, were they (which might be the case), to be equally 
crowded together in close and confined prisons, at 
this season, would be exposed to equal loss and misery. 
I have the honor to be, Sir 

Yr Excellency's most obt 

Hble srvt 
George Washington 

rear-admiral digby's answer 

N. Y. June 8 1782 
Sir: 

My feelings prompted me to grant Messrs. 
Aborn and Bowen permission to wait on your Excel- 
lency to represent their miserable situation, and if 
your Excellency's feelings on this occasion are like 
mine, you will not hesitate one moment in relieving 
both the British and Americans suffering under con- 
finement. 

I have the Honor to be your Excellency's 

Very obdt Srvt 

R. Digby 

from commissary skinner to commissary sproat 

Camp Highlands, June 24th 1782 
Sir: 

As I perceive by a New York paper of the 12 
inst, the last letters which passed between us on the 



426 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

subject of naval prisoners have been committed to 
print, I must request the same to be done with this 
which is intended to contain some animadversions on 
those publications. 

The principles and policy which appear to actuate 
your superiors in their conduct towards the American 
seamen who unfortunately fall into their power, are 
too apparent to admit of a doubt or misapprehension, 
I am sorry to observe, Sir, that notwithstanding the 
affectation of candour and fairness on your part, 
from the universal tenor of behaviour on your side 
of the lines, it is obvious that the designs of the Brit- 
ish is, by misrepresenting the state of facts with re- 
gard to exchanges, to excite jealousy in the minds of 
our unfortunate seamen, that they are neglected by 
their countrymen, and by attempting to make them 
believe that all the miseries they are now suffering 
in consequence of a pestilential sickness arise from 
want of inclination in General Washington to ex- 
change them when he has it in his power to do it; in 
hopes of being able by this insinuation and by the un- 
relenting severity you make use of in confining them 
in the contaminated holds of prison-ships, to compel 
them, in order to avoid the dreadful alternative of 
almost inevitable death, to enter the service of the 
King of Great Britain. 

To show that these observations are just and well 
grounded, I think it necessary to inform you of some 
facts which have happened within my immediate no- 
tice, and to put you in mind of others which you can- 
not deny. I was myself present at the time when 
Captain Aborn and Dr. Bowen ^- * * waited 
on his Excellency General Washington, and know 
perfectly well the answer his Excellency gave to that 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 427 

application: he informed them in the first place that 
he was not directly or indirectly invested with any 
power of inference respecting the exchange of 
naval prisoners; that this business was formerly un- 
der the direction of the Board of Admiralty, that 
upon the annihilation of that Board Congress had 
committed it to the Financier (who has in charge all 
our naval prisoners) and he to the Secretary at war. 
That (the General) was notwithstanding disposed to 
do everything in his power for their assistance and 
relief : that as exchanging reamen for soldiers was 
contrary to the original agreement for the exchange 
of prisoners, — which specified that officers should be 
exchanged for officers, soldiers for soldiers, citizens 
for citizens, and seamen for seamen; as it was con- 
trary to the custom and practice of other nations, 
and as it would be, in his opinion, contrary to the 
soundest policy, by giving the enemy a great and per- 
manent strength for which we could receive no com- 
pensation, or at best but a partial and temporary one, 
he did not think it would be admissible : but as it ap- 
peared to him, from a variety of well authenticated 
information, the present misery and mortality which 
prevailed among the naval prisoners were almost en- 
tirely, if not altogether produced by the mode of 
their confinement, being closely crowded together in 
infected prison-ships, where the very air is pregnant 
with disease, and the ships themselves (never having 
been cleaned in the course of many years), a mere 
mass of putrefaction, he would therefor, from mo- 
tives of humanity, write to Rear-Admiral Digby, in 
whose power it was to remedy this great evil, by con- 
fining them on shore, or having a sufficient number of 
prison-ships provided for that purpose, for, he ob- 



428 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

served, it was as preposterously cruel to confine 800 
men, at this sultry season, on board the Jersey prison- 
ship, as it would be to shut up the whole army of Lord 
Cornwallis to perish in the New Goal of Philadelphia, 
but if more commodious and healthy accommodations 
were not afforded we had the means of retaliation in 
our hands, which he should not hesitate, in that case, 
to make use of, by confining the land prisoners with 
as much severity as our seamen were held. — The Gen- 
tlemen of the Committee appeared to be sensible of 
the force of these reasons, however repugnant they 
might be to the feelings and wishes of the men who 
had destruction and death staring them in the face. 

His Excellency was further pleased to suffer me 
to go to New York to examine into the grounds of 
the suffering of the prisoners, and to devise, if pos- 
sible, some way or another, for their liberation or re- 
lief. With this permission I went into your lines : 
and in consequence of the authority I had been pre- 
viously invested with, from the Secretary at War, I 
made the proposition contained in my letter of the 
ninth instant. Although I could not claim this as a 
matter of right I flattered myself it would have been 
granted from the principles of humanity, as well as 
other motives. There had been a balance of 495 land 
prisoners due to us ever since the month of February 
last, when a settlement was made; besides which, to 
the best of my belief, 400 have been sent in, (this 
is the true state of the fact, though it differs widely 
from the account of 250 men, which is falsely stated 
in the note annexed to my letter in the New York 
paper:) notwithstanding this balance, I was then 
about sending into your lines a number of land pris- 
oners, as an equivalent for ours, who were then con- 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 429 

fined in the Sugar House, without which (though 
the debt was acknowledged, I could not make interest 
to have them liberated), this business has since been 
actually negotiated, and we glory in having our con- 
duct, such as will bear the strictest scrutiny, and be 
found consonant to the dictates of reason, liberality^ 
and justice. But, Sir, since you would not agree to 
the proposals I made, since I was refused being per- 
mitted to visit the prison-ships : ( for which I conclude 
no other reason can be produced than your being 
ashamed or afraid of having those graves of our sea- 
men seen by one who dared to represent the horrors 
of them to his countrymen,) Since the commissioners 
from your side, at their late meeting, would not enter 
into an adjustment of the accounts for supplying your 
naval and land prisoners, on which there are large 
sums due us ; and since your superiors will neither 
make provision for the support of your prisoners in 
our hands, nor accommodation for the mere existence 
of ours, who are now languishing in your prison-ships, 
it becomes my duty, Sir, to state these pointed facts 
to you, that the imputations may recoil where they 
are deserved, and to report to those, under whose au- 
thority I have the honor to act, that such measures 
as they deem proper may be adopted. 

And now. Sir, I will conclude this long letter with 
observing that not having a sufficient number of Brit- 
ish seamen in our possession we are not able to re- 
lease ours by exchange: — this is our misfortune, but 
it is not a crime, and ought not to operate as a mor- 
tal punishment against the unfortunate — we ask no 
favour, we claim nothing but common justice and hu- 
manity, while we assert to the whole world, as a no- 
torious fact, that the unprecedented inhumanity in 



430 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

the mode of confining our naval prisoners, to the 
amount of 800 in one old hulk, which has been made 
use of as a prison-ship for more than three years, 
without ever having been once purified, has been the 
real and sole cause of the deaths of hundreds of brave 
Americans, who would not have perished in that un- 
timely and barbarous manner, had they, (when pris- 
oners,) been suffered to breathe a purer air, and to 
enjoy more liberal and convenient accommodations 
agreeably to the practice of civilized nations when at 
war, (and) the example which has always been set you 
by the Americans. You may say, and I shall admit, 
that if they were placed on islands, and more liberty 
given them, that some might desert ; but is not this the 
case with your prisoners in our hands? And could 
we not avoid this also, if we were to adopt the same 
rigid and inhuman mode of confinement you do? 

I beg, Sir, you will be pleased to consider this as 
addressed to you officially, as the principal executive 
officer in the department of naval prisoners, and not 
personally, and that you will attribute any uncommon 
warmth of style that I may have been led into to my 
feeling and animation on a subject with which I find 
myself so much interested, both from the principles 
of humanity and the duties of office. I am. Sir, 

yr most obdt Srvt 
Abraham Skinner 

Letters full of recriminations continued to pass be- 
tween the commissaries on both sides. In Sproat's 
reply to the letter we have just quoted, he enclosed 
a copy of the paper which he had induced the thirteen 
sea captains and other officers to sign, obtained as we 
have seen, in such a dastardly manner. 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 431 

In the meantime the naval prisoners continued to 
die in great numbers on board the prison and hospital- 
ships. We have already described the cleansing of 
the Jersey, on which occasion the prisoners were sent 
on board of other vessels and exposed to cold and 
damp in addition to their other sufferings. And while 
negotiations for peace wxre pending some relaxation 
in severity appears to have taken place. 



CHAPTER XLVI 
Some of the Prisoners on Board the Jersey 

WE HAVE seen that the crew of the Chance was 
exchanged in the fall of 1782. A few of the 
men who composed this crew were ill at the time that 
the exchange was affected, and had been sent to 
Blackweli's Island. Among these unfortunate suf- 
ferers was the sailing-master of the Chance, whose 
name was Sylvester Rhodes. 

This gentleman was born at Warwick, R. L, Nov- 
ember 21, 1745. He married Mary Aborn, youngest 
sister of Captain Daniel Aborn, and entered the serv- 
ice of his country, in the early part of the war, some- 
times on land, and sometimes as a seaman. He was 
with Commodore Whipple on his first cruise, and as 
prize-master carried into Boston the first prize cap- 
tured by that officer. He also served in a Rhode Is- 
land regiment. 

When the crew of the Jersey was exchanged and 
he was not among the number, his brother-in-law. 
Captain Aborn, endeavored to obtain his release, but, 
as he had been an officer in the army as well as on the 
privateer, the British refused to release him as a 
seaman. His father, however, through the influence 
of some prominent Tories with whom he was con- 
nected, finally secured his parole, and Captain Aborn 
went to New York to bring him home. But it was 
too late. He had become greatly enfeebled by dis- 
ease, and died on board the cartel, while on her pas- 
sage through the Sound, on the 3rd of November, 
1782, leaving a widow and five children. Mary Aborn 
Rhodes lived to be 98, dying in 1852, one of the last 
survivors of the stirring times of the Revolution. 



American Prisoners of the Revoi^ution 433 

WIIvIylAM DROWNE 

One of the most adventurous of American seamen 
was William Drowne, who was taken prisoner more 
than once. He was born in Providence, R. L, in 
April 1755. After many adventures he sailed on the 
18th of May, 1780, in the General Washington, owned 
by Mr. John Brown of Providence. In a Journal kept 
by Mr. Drowne on board of this ship, he writes : 

''The cruise is for two months and a half, though 
should New York fetch us up again, the time may be 
protracted, but it is not in the bargain to pay that 
potent city a visit this bout. It may easily be imagined 
what a sensible mortification it must be to dispense 
with the delicious sweets of a Prison-ship. But 
though the Washington is deemed a prime sailor, and 
is well armed, I will not be too sanguine in the pros- 
pect of escape, as 'the race is not always to the swift, 
nor the battle to the strong.' But, as I said before, it 
is not in the articles to go there this time, especially as 
it is said the prisoners are very much crowded there 
already, and it would be a piece of unfeeling inhu- 
manity to be adding to their unavoidable inconven- 
ience by our presence. Nor could we, in such a case^ 
by any means expect that Madam Fortune would 
deign to smile so propitiously as she did before, in 
the promotion of an exchange so much sooner than 
our most sanguine expectations flattered us with, as 
'tis said to be with no small difliculty that a parole can 
be obtained, much more an exchange." 

This cruise resulted in the capture by the Wash- 
ington of several vessels, among them the Robust, 
Lord Sandwich, Barrington, and the Spitfire, a Brit- 
ish privateer. 

In May, 1781, Mr. Drowne sailed on board the Bel- 
—28 



434 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

isarius, commanded by Captain James Munro, which 
vessel was captured on the 26th of July and brought 
into the port of New York. Drowne and the other 
officers were sent to the Jersey, where close confine- 
ment and all the horrors of the place soon impaired 
his vigorous constitution. Although he was, through 
the influence of his friends, allowed to visit Newport 
on parole in November, 1781, he was returned to the 
prison ship, and was not released until some time in 
1783. His brother, who was a physician, nursed him 
faithfully, but he died on the 9th of August, 1786. 
Letters written on board the Jersey have a melancholy 
interest to the student of history, and this one, written 
by William Drowne to a Mrs. Johnston, of New York, 
is taken from the appendix to the "Recollections of 
Captain Bring." 

Jersey Prison Ship Sep. 25 1781 
Madam : 

Your letter to Captain Joshua Sawyer of the 
23d Inst, came on board this moment, which I being 
requested to answer, take the freedom to do, and with 
sensible regret, as it announces the dissolution of the 
good man. It was an event very unexpected. Tis 
true he had been for some days very ill, but a turn 
in his favor cancel'd all further apprehension of his 
being dangerous, and but yesterday he was able with- 
out assistance to go upon deck; said he felt much bet- 
ter, and without any further Complaints, at the usual 
time turned into his Hammock, and as was supposed 
went to sleep. Judge of our Surprise and Astonish- 
ment this morning at being informed of his being 
found a lifeless Corpse. 

Could anything nourishing or comfortable have 
been procured for him during his illness, 'tis possible 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 435 

He might now have been a well man. But Heaven 
thought proper to take him to itself, and we must not 
repine. 

A Coffin would have been procured in case it could 
be done seasonably, but his situation rendered a speedy 
Interment unavoidable. Agreeably to which 10 or 12 
Gentlemen of his acquaintance presented a petition 
to the Commanding Officer on board, requesting the 
favor that they might be permitted, under the Inspec- 
tion of a file of Soldiers, to pay the last sad duties to 
a Gentleman of merit; which he humanely granted, 
and in the Afternoon his remains were taken on shore, 
and committed to their native dust in as decent a 
manner as our situation would admit. Myself, in 
room of a better, officiated in the sacred office of a 
Chaplain and read prayers over the Corpse previous 
to its final close in its gloomy mansion. I have given 
you these particulars. Madam, as I was sensible it 
must give you great satisfaction to hear he had some 
friends on board. Your benevolent and good inten- 
tions to him shall, (if Heaven permits my return) be 
safely delivered to his afflicted wife, to give her the 
sensible Consolation that her late much esteemed 
and affectionate Husband was not destitute of a 
Friend, who had wish'd to do him all the good offices 
in his power, had not the hand of fate prevented. 

If you wish to know anything relative to myself — 
if you will give Yourself the trouble to call on Mrs. 
James Selhrig, she will inform You, or Jos. Aplin, 
Esqre. 

You will please to excuse the Liberty I have taken 
being an entire stranger. I have no Views in it but 
those of giving, as I said before, satisfaction to one 
who took a friendly part towards a Gentleman de- 



436 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

cease'd, whom I very much esteemed. Your good- 
ness will not look with a critical eye over the numer- 
ous Imperfections of this Epistle. 

I am, Madam, with every sentiment of respect 

yr most Obdt Servt 

Wm. Drowne 

The next letter we will give was written by Dr, 
Solomon Drowne to his sister Sally. This gentleman 
was making every effort to obtain his brother's re- 
lease from captivity. 

Providence, Oct. 17 1781 
Dear Sally: 

We have not forgot you; — but if we 
think strongly on other objects the memory of you 
returns, more grateful than the airs which fan the 
Summer, or all the golden products of ye Autumn. 
The Cartel is still detained, for what reason is not 
fully known. Perhaps they meditate an attack upon 
some unguarded, unsuspecting quarter, and already 
in idea glut their eyes, with the smoke of burning 
Towns and Villages, and are soothed by the sounds 
of deep distress. Forbid it Guardian of America ! — 
and rather let the reason be their fear that we should 
know the state of their shattered Navy and declining 
affairs — However, Bill is yet a Prisoner, and still 
must feel, if not for himself, yet what a mind like 
his will ever feel for others. In a letter I received 
from him about three weeks since he mentioned that 
having a letter to Mr. George Deblois, he sent it, ac- 
companied with one he wrote requesting his influence 
towards effecting his return the next Flag, — that Mr. 
Deblois being indisposed, his cousin Captain William 
Deblois, taken by Monro last year, came on board to 



American Prisoners of the Revoi^ution 437 

see him, with a present from Mr. Deblois of some 
Tea, Sugar, Wine, Rum, etc, and the offer of any 
other Civilities that lay in the power of either : — This 
was beneficence and true Urbanity, — that he was not 
destitute of Cash, that best friend in Adversity, except 
some other best friends, — that as long as he had 
health, he should, he had like to have said, be happy. 
In a word he bears up with his wonted fortitude and 
good spirits, as we say, nor discovers the least re- 
pining at his fate. But you and I who sleep on beds 
of down and inhale the untainted, cherishing air, sur- 
rounded by most endeared connexions, know that his 
cannot be the most delectable of situations: therefor 
with impatience we look for his happy return to the 
Circle of his Friends. 

Yr aff Bro. 
Solomon Drowne 

DR. S. DROWNE TO MRS. MARCY DROWNE 

Newport Nov. 14 1781 
Respected Mother, 

I found Billy much better than I expected, the 
account we received of his situation having been con- 
siderably exaggerated: However we ought to be 
thankful we were not deceived by a too favorable 
account, and so left him to the care of strangers, 
when he might most need the soothing aid of close 
relatives. He is very weak yet, and as a second re- 
lapse might endanger his reduced, tottering system, 
think it advisable not to set off for home with him 
till the wind is favorable. He is impatient, for the 
moment of its shifting, as he is anxious to see you 
all. 

The boat is just going. Adieu, yr aff son 

Solomon Drowne 



438 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

We have already quoted from the Recollections of 
Jeremiah Johnson who lived on the banks of Walla- 
bout Bay during the Revolution. He further says: 
"The prisoners confined in the Jersey had secretly 
obtained a crow-bar which was kept concealed in the 
berth of some confidential ofiicer among the pris- 
oners. The bar was used to break off the port grat- 
ings. This was done, in windy nights, when good 
swimmers were ready to leave the ship for the land. 
In this way a number escaped. 

"Captain Doughty, a friend of the writer, had 
charge of the bar when he was a prisoner on board 
of the Jersey, and effected his escape by its means. 
When he left the ship he gave the bar to a confidant 
to be used for the relief of others. Very few who 
left the ship were retaken. They knew where to 
find friends to conceal them, and to help them beyond 
pursuit. 

"A singularly daring and successful escape was ef- 
fected from the Jersey about 4 o'clock one afternoon 
in the beginning of Dec. 1780. The best boat of the 
ship had returned from New York between 3 & 4 
o'clock, and was left fast at the gangway, with the 
oars on board. The afternoon was stormy, the wind 
blew from the north-east, and the tide ran flood. A 
watchword was given, and a number of prisoners 
placed themselves carelessly between the ship's waist 
and the sentinel. At this juncture four Eastern Cap- 
tains got on board the boat, which was cast off by 
their friends. The boat passed close under the bows 
of the ship, and was a considerable distance from her 
before the sentinel in the fo'castle gave the alarm, 
and fired at her. The second boat was manned for 
a chase; she pursued in vain; one man from her bow 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 439 

fired several shots at the boat, and a few guns were 
fired at her from the Bushwick shore; but all to no 
effect, — and the boat passed Hell-gate in the evening, 
and arrived safe in Connecticut next morning. 

"A spring of the writer was a favorite watering- 
place for the. British shipping. The water-boat of the 
Jersey watered from this spring daily when it could 
be done; four prisoners were generally brought on 
shore to fill the casks, attended by a guard. The pris- 
oners were frequently permitted to come to the 
(Johnstons') house to get milk and food; and often 
brought letters privately from the prisoners. From 
these the sufferings on board were revealed. 

''Supplies of vegetables were frequently collected 
by Mr. Remsen (the benevolent owner of the mill,) 
for the prisoners; and small sums of money were 
sent on board by the writer's father to his friends by 
means of these watering parties." 

AN ESCAPE FROM THE JERSEY 

"I was one of 850 souls confined in the Jersey in- 
the summer of 1781, and witnessed several , daring- 
attempts to escape. They generally ended tragically. 
They were always undertaken in the night, after 
wrenching or filing the bar off the port-holes. Hav- 
ing been on board several weeks, and goaded to death 
in various ways, four of us concluded to run the haz- 
ard. We set to work and got the bars off, and waited 
impatiently for a dark night. We lay in front of Mr. 
Remsen's door, inside of the pier head and not more 
that 20 yards distant. There were several guard 
sloops, one on our bow, and the other off our quar- 
ter a short distance from us. The dark night came, 
the first two were lowered quietly into the water ; and 



440 American Prisoners of the Revoi^ution 

the third made some rumbling. I was the fourth that 
descended, but had not struck off from the vessel be- 
fore the guards were alarmed, and fired upon us. The 
alarm became general, and I was immediately hauled 
on board (by the other prisoners). 

"They manned their boats, and with their lights and 
implements of death were quick in pursuit of the un- 
fortunates, cursing and swearing, and bellowing and 
firing. It was awful to witness this deed of blood. 
It lasted about an hour, — all on board trembling for 
our shipmates. These desperadoes returned to their 
different vessels rejoicing that they had killed three 
damned rebels. 

"About three years after this I saw a gentleman in 
John St., near Nassau, who accosted me thus : 'Man- 
ley, how do you do?' I could not recollect him. 'Is 
it possible you don't know me? Recollect the Old 
Jersey ?' And he opened his vest and bared his breast. 
I immediately said to him — 'You are James McClain.' 
^I am,' said he. We both stepped into Mariner's pub- 
lic house, at the corner, and he related his marvellous 
escape V to me. 

" 'They pursued me : — I frequently dived to 
avoid them, and when I cam.e up they fired on me. I 
caught my breath, and immediately dived again, and 
held my breath till I crawled along the mud. They 
no doubt thought they killed me. I however, with 
much exertion, though weak and wounded, made 
out to reach the shore, and got into a barn, not far 
from the ship, a little north of Mr. Remsen's house. 
The farmer, the next morning, came into his barn, — 
saw me lying on the floor, and ran out in a fright. I 
begged him to come to me^ and he did, I gave an ac- 
count of myself, where I was from, how I was pur- 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 441 

sued, with several others. He saw my wounds, took 
pity on me; sent for his wife, and bound up my 
wounds, and kept me in the barn until night- fall, — 
took me into his house, nursed me secretly, and then 
furnished me with clothing, etc., and when I was re- 
stored, he took me with him, into his market-boat to 
this city, and went with me to the west part of the 
city, provided me with a passage over to Bergen, and I 
landed somewhere in Communipaw. Some friends 
helped me across Newark Bay, and then I worked my 
way, until I reached Baltimore, to the great joy of all 
my friends."* 

Just Vv^hat proportion of captives died on board of 
the Jersey it is now impossible to determine. No 
doubt there were many escapes of which it is impos- 
sible to obtain the particulars. The winter of 
1779-80 was excessively cold, and the Wallabout Bay 
was frozen over. One night a number of prisoners 
took advatitage of this to make their escape by low- 
ering themselves from a port hole on to the ice. It 
is recorded that the cold was so excessive that one man 
was frozen to death, that the British pursued the party 
and brought a few of them back, but that a number 
succeeded in making their escape to New Jersey. 
Who these men were we have been unable to dis- 
cover. Tradition also states that while Wallabout 
Bay was thus frozen over the Long Island market 
wo/men skated across it, with supplies of vegetables 
ir: large hampers attached to their backs, and that 
s'ome of them came near enough to throw some of 
ttheir supplies to the half-famished prisoners on board 
the Jersey. 

It would appear that these poor sufferers had warm 

*"Recollections of Captain Manley." 



442 American Prisoners of the Revoi^ution 

friends in the farmers who Hved on the shores of the 
Wallabout. Of these Mr. A. Remsen, who owned a 
mill at the mouth of a creek which empties into the 
Bay, was one of the most benevolent, and it was his 
daughter who is said to have kept a list of the num- 
ber of bodies that were interred in the sand in the 
neighborhood of the mill and house. In 1780 Mr 
Remsen hid an escaped prisoner, Major H. Wyckofif, 
for several days in one of his upper rooms, while at 
the same time the young lieutenant of the guard of 
the Jersey was quartered in the house. Remsen also 
lent Captain Wyckoff as much money as he nee;ded, 
and finally, one dark night, safely conveyed him in a 
sleigh to Cow Neck. From thence be crossed to 
Poughkeepsie. 

Although little mention is made by those prisoners 
who have left accounts of their experieices while on 
board the Jersey, of any aid received by them from 
the American government the followin^v passage 
from a Connecticut paper would seem to indicate 
that such aid was tendered them at least for a time. 
It is possible that Congress sent some provisions to 
the prison-ships for her imprisoned soldiers, or\ ma- 
rines, but made no provision for the crews of priva- 
teers. 

"New London. September 1st. 1779. D. Stanton 
testifies that he was taken June 5th, and put in ' the 
Jersey prison ship. An allowance from Congre,ss 
was sent on board. About three or four weeks pa^\^t 
we were removed on board the Good Hope, whertv 
we found many sick. There is now a hospital ship\ 
provided, to which they are removed and good at- 
tention paid." 



American Prisoners of the Revoi^ution 443 

The next extract that we will quote probably re- 
fers to the escape of prisoners on the ice referred to 
above. 

"New London. Conn. Feb. 16th. 1780. Fifteen 
prisoners arrived here who three weeks ago escaped 
from the prison-ship in the East River. A number of 
others escaped about the same time from the same 
ship, some of whom being frost-bitten and unable to 
endure the cold, were taken up and carried back, one 
frozen to death before he reached the shore." 

''Rivington's Gazette, Dec. 19th 1780. George Bat- 
terman, who had been a prisoner on board the prison 
ship at New York, deposes that he had had eight 
ounces of condemned bread per day; and eight 
ounces of meat. He was afterwards put on board 
the Jersey, where were, as was supposed, 1,100 pris- 
oners; recruiting officers came on board and finding 
that the American officers persuaded the men not to 
enlist, removed them, as he was told, to the Provost. 
The prisoners were tempted to enlist to free them- 
selves from confinement, hopeless of exchange. 
* * * The prisoners had a pint of water per day : 
— the sick were not sent to the hospitals until they 
were so weak and ill that they often expired before 
they got out of the Jersey. The commanding officer 
said his orders were that if the ship took fire we 
should all be turned below, and left to perish in the 
flames. By accident the ship took fire in the stew- 
ard's room, when the Hessian guards were ordered 
to drive the prisoners below, and fire among them if 
they resisted or got in the water." 

Talbot in his Memoirs stated that : "When the 
weather became cool and dry in the fall and the nights 
frosty the number of deaths on board the Jersey was 



444 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

reduced to an average of ten per day! which was 
small compared with the mortality for three months 
before. The human bones and skulls yet bleaching 
on the shore of Long Island, and exposed by the fall- 
ing down of the high bank, on which the prisoners 
were buried, is a shocking sight." (Talbot, page 
106.) 

In May, 1808, one William Burke of New York 
testified that *'He was a prisoner in the Jersey 14 
months, has known many American prisoners put to 
death by the bayonet. It was the custom for but one 
prisoner at a time to go on deck. One night while 
many prisoners were assembled at the grate, at the 
hatchway to obtain fresh air, and waiting their turn 
to go on deck, a sentinel thrust his bayonet down 
among them, and 25 next morning were found to be 
dead. This was the case several mornings, when 
sometimes six, and sometimes eight or ten were 
found dead by wounds thus received." 

A Connecticut paper, some time in May, 1781, 
stated that: "Eleven hundred French and American 
prisoners died in New York last winter." 

A paper published in Philadelphia, on the 20th of 
February, 1782, says : ''Many of our unfortunate 
prisoners on board the prison ships in the East River 
have perished during the late extreme weather, for 
want of fuel and other necessaries." 

"New London. May 3rd. 1782. One thousand 
of our seamen remain in prison ships in New York, 
a great part in close confinement for six months past, 
and in a most deplorable condition. Five hundred 
have died during the past five or six months, three 
hundred are sick; many seeing no prospect of release 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 445 

are entering the British service to elude the conta- 
gion with which the prison ships are fraught." 

Joel Barlow in his Columbiad says that Mr. Elias 
Boudinot told him that in the Jersey 1,100 prisoners 
died in eighteen months, almost the whole of them 
from the barbarous treatment of being stifled in a 
crowded hold with infected air; and poisoned with 
unwholesome food, and Mr Barlow adds that the cru- 
elties exercised by the British armies on American 
prisoners during the first years of the war were un- 
exampled among civilized nations. 



CONCLUSION 

SUCH of the prisoners as escaped after months 
of suffering with health sufficient for future 
usefulness in the field often re-enlisted, burning for 
revenge. 

Mr. Scharf, in his "History of Western Maryland, 
speaks of Colonel William Kunkel, who had served 
in Prussia, and emigrated to America about the 
year 1732. He first settled in Lancaster, Pa., but aft- 
erwards moved to Western Maryland. He had six 
sons in the Revolution. One of these sons entered 
the American army at the age of eighteen. Taken 
prisoner he was sent on board the Jersey, where his 
sufferings were terrible. On his return home after 
his exchange he vowed to his father that he would re- 
turn to the army and fight until the last redcoat was 
driven out of the country. He did return, and from 
that time, says Mr Scharf, his family never heard 
from him again. 

Mr. Crimmins in his "Irish-American Historical 
Miscellany," says : "An especially affecting incident 
is told regarding one prisoner who died on the Jer- 
sey. Two young men, brothers, belonging to a rifle 
corps were made prisoners, and sent on board the 
ship. The elder took the fever, and in a few days 
became delirious. One night as his end was fast ap- 
proaching, he became calm and sensible, and lament- 
ing his hard fate, and the absence of his mother, 
begged for a little water. His brother with tears, en- 
treated the guard to give him some, but in vain. The 
sick youth was soon in his last struggles, when his 
brother offered the guard a guinea for an inch of can- 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 447 

die, only that he might see him die. Even this was 
denied." 

The young rifleman died in the dark. 

"Now," said his brother, drying his tears, "if it 
please God that I ever regain my liberty, I'll be a 
most bitter enemy!" 

He was exchanged, rejoined the army, and when 
the war ended he is said to have had eight large and 
one hundred and twenty-seven small notches on his 
rifle stock. The inference is that he made a notch 
every time he killed or wounded a British soldier, a 
large notch for an officer, and a small one for a pri- 
vate. 

Mr. Lecky, the English historian, thus speaks of 
American prisoners : "The American prisoners who 
had been confined in New York after the battle of 
Long Island were so emaciated and broken down by 
scandalous neglect or ill usage that Washington re- 
fused to receive them in exchange for an equal num- 
ber of healthy British and Hessian troops. * * * 
It is but justice to the Americans to add that their 
conduct during the war appears to have been almost 
uniformly humane. No charges of neglect of pris- 
oners, like those which were brought, apparently 
with too good reason, against the English, were sub- 
stantiated against them. The conduct of Washing- 
ton was marked by a careful and steady humanity, 
and Franklin, also, appears to have done much to mit- 
igate the war." 

Our task is now concluded. We have concerned 
ourselves with the prisoners themselves, not much 
with the history of the negotiations carried on to ef- 
fect exchange, but have left this part of the subject 



448 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

to some abler hand. Only a very small part of the 
story has been told in this volume, and there is much 
room for future investigations. It is highly probable 
that if a systematic search is made many unpublished 
accounts may be discovered, and a great deal of light 
shed upon the horrors of the British prisons. If we 
have awakened interest in the sad fate of so many of 
our brave countrymen, and aroused some readers to 
a feeling of compassion for their misfortunes, and ad- 
miration for their heroism, our task has not been in 
vain. 



x 



APPENDIX A 



List of 8000 Men Who Were Prisoners on Board 
THE OivD Jersey 

PRINTED BY PERMISSION OF THE SOCIETY OF OI,D BROOKI^YNITES 

THIS list of names was copied from the papers of the 
British War Department. There is nothing to indicate 
what became of any of these prisoners, whether they 
died, escaped, or were exchanged. The list seems to have 
been carelessly kept, and is full of obvious mistakes in 
spelling the names. Yet it shall be given just as it is, ex- 
cept that the names are arranged differently, for easier 
reference. This list of prisoners is the only one that 
could be found in the British War Department. What 
became of the lists of prisoners on the many other prison 
ships, and prisons, used by the English in America, we do 
not know. 



Garret Aarons 
John Aarons (2) 
Alexander Abbett 
John Abbett 
James Abben 
John Abbott 
Daniel Abbott 
Abel Abel 
George Abel 
Jacob Aberry 
Jabez Abett 
Philip Abing 
Thomas A,h>ington 
Christopher Abolis 
William Aboms 
Daniel Abrams 
Don Meegl (Mi- 
guel) Abusure 
Gansio Acito 
Abel Adams 
Amos Adams 
Benjam'an Adams 
David Adams 
Isaac Adams 
John Adams (4) 
Lawrence Adams 
Moses Adams 

—29 



Nathaniel Adams 
Pisco Adams 
Richard Adams 
Stephen Adams 
Thomas Adams 
Warren Adams 
Amos Addams 
Thomas Addett 
Benjamdn Addison 
David Addon 
John Adlott 
Robert Admistad 
Noah Administer 
Wm. Adamson (2) 
John Adobon 
James Adovie 
Sebastian de Ae- 

dora 
Jean Aenbie 
Michael Aessinis 
Frances Affille 
Joseph Antonio 

Aguirra 
Thomas Aguy- 

noble 
John Aires 
Robert Aitken 



Thomas Aiz 
Manuel Ajote 
Jacob Akins 
Joseph Aker (2) 
Richard Akerson 
Charles Albert 
Piere Albert 
Robert Albion 
Joachin Alconan 
Joseph de Alcorta 
Juan Ignacid Al- 
corta 
Pedro Aldaronda 
Humphrey Alden 
Fred Aldkin 
George Aldridge 
Jacob Alehipike 
Jean Aleslure 
Archibald Alexan- 
der 
John Alexander (2) 
Lehle Alexander 
William Alexander 
Thomas Alger 
Christopher Aliet 
Joseph Aliev 
George Alignott 



450 American Prisoners of the Revolution 



Joseph Allah 
Gideon Allan 
Hugh Allan 
Francis Allegree 
Baeknel Allen 
Bancke Allen 
Benjamin Allen 
Bucknell Allen 
Ebeneser Allen 
George Allen 
Gideon Allen 
Isaac Allen 
John Allen (5) 
Josiah Allen 
Murgo Allen 
Richard Allen (2) 
Samuel Allen (7) 
Squire Allen 
Thomas Allen (3) 
William Allen (4) 
Jean Allin 
Caleb Allis 
Bradby Allison 
Bradey Allison 
James Allison 
Frances Alment 
Arrohan Almon 
Aceth Almond 
William Alpin 
Jacob Alsfrugh 
Jacob Alsough 
Jacob Alstright 
James Alsworth 
Thomas Alvarey 
Miguel Alveras 
Don Ambrose Al- 

verd 
Joseph Alvey 
James Alwhite 
George Alwood 
James Alwood 
Charles Amey 
Anthony Amingo 
Manuel Amizarma 
Nathaniel Anabel 
Austin Anaga 
Jean Ancette 
Charles Anderson 
Joseph Anderson 
Robert Anderson 
William Anderson 

(3) 



George Andre 
Benjamin Andrews 
Charles Andrews 
Dollar Andrews 
Ebeneser Andrews 
Francis Andrews 
Frederick Andrews 
Jerediah Andrews 
John Andrews (4) 
Jonathan Andrews 
Pascal Andrews 
Philany Andrews 
Thomas Andrews 
William Andrews 
Guillion Andrie 
Pashal Andrie 
Dominique Angola 
Andre D. C. Anna- 

polen 
Joseph Anrandes 
John Anson 
William Anster 
David Anthony 
Davis Anthony 
Samuel Anthony 
Pierre Antien 
Jacques Antiqua 
Jean Anton 
Francis Antonf 
John Antonio 
Daniel Appell 
Daniel Apple 
Thomas Appleby 
Samuel Appleton 
Joseph Aquirse 

Arbay 

Abraham xA.rcher 
James Archer 
John Archer 
"Stephen Archer 
Thomas Arcos 
Richard Ariel 
Asencid Arismane 
Ezekiel Arme 
Jean Armised 
James Armitage 
Elijah Armsby 
Christian Armstrong 
William Armstrong 
Samuel Arnibald 
Amos Arnold 
Ash Arnold 



Samuel Arnold 
Charles Arnolds 
Samuel Arnolds 
Thomas Arnold 
Andres Arral 
Manuel de Artol 
Don Pedro Aseva- 

suo 
Hosea Asevalado 
James Ash 
Henry Ash 
John Ashbey 
John Ashburn 
Peter Ashburn 
John Ashby 
Warren Ashby 
John Ashley 
Andrew Askill 
Francis Aspuro 
John Athan 
George Atkins 
John Atkins 
Silas Atkins 
John Atkinson 
Robert Atkinson 
William Atkinson 
James Atlin 
Duke Attera 
Jean Pierre Atton 
John Atwood 
Henry Auchinlaup 
Joseph Audit 
Anthony Aiguillia 
Igarz Baboo Au- 

gusion 
Peter Augusta 
Thomas Augustine 
Laurie Aujit 
George Austin 
Job Avery 
Benjamin Avmey 
Francis Ayres 
Don Pedro Azoala 

B 
Franklin Babcock 
William Babcock 
James Babel 
Jeremiah Babell 
Jean Babier 
Abel Baboard 
Vascilla Babtreause 



Appendix 



451 



Francis Bachelier 
Jonathan Bachelor 
Antonio Backa- 

long 
Francis Backay 
Benjamin Bacon 
Esau Bacon 
Judah Bacon 
Stephen Badante 
Laurence Badeno 
William Badick 
Jonathan Baddock 
John Baggar 
Barnett Bagges 
Adam Bagley 
Joseph Bahamony 
John Bailey (2) 
William Bailey 
Moses Baird 
Joseph Baisolus 
William Baison 
William Batho 
Christopher Baker 
Ebenezer Baker 
John Baker (2) 
Joseph Baker 
Judah Baker 
Lemuel Baker 
Nathaniel Baker 
Pamberton Baker 
Pemberton Baker 
Pembleton Baker 
Thomas Baker (3) 
David Baldwin 
James Baldwin 
John Baldwin 
Nathaniel Baldwin 
Ralph Baldwin 
Thomas Ball 
Benjamin Ballard 
John Ballast 
Joseph Balumatigua 
Ralf Bamford 
Jacob Bamper 
Peter Banaby 
James Bandel 
Augustine Bandine 
Pierre Bandine 
John Banister (2) 
Matthew Bank 
James Banker 



John Banks 
Matthew Banks 
Jean Rio Bapbsta 
Jean Baptista 
Gale Baptist 
Jean Baptist 
John Barber 
Gilbert Barber 
John Barden 
William Barenoft 
Walter Bargeman 
Joseph Bargeron 
Charles Bargo 
Mabas Bark 
Benjamin Barker 
Edward Barker 
Jacom Barker 
John Barker 
Peter Barker 
Thomas Barker 
Benjamin Barkly 
Joseph Barkump 
John Barley 
James Barman 
Ethiem Barnell 
Charles Barnes 
Henry Barnes 
Wooding Barnes 
John Barnett 
Henry Barney 
Mons Barney 
Samuel Barney 
William Barnhouse 
James Barracks 
Pierre Barratt 
Abner Barre 
Dennis Barrett 
Enoch Barrett 
Francis Barrett 
Samuel Barrett 
William Barrett 
Robert Barrol 
Bernard Barron 
Enoch Barrott 
Francis Barsidge 
William Bartlet 
Joseph Bartley 
Charles Barthale- 

merd 
Charles Barthole- 

mew 



Joseph Bartholo- 
mew 

Bartholomew 

Benjamin Bartho- 

loyd 
Petrus Bartlemie 
Michael Bartol 
Thomas Barton 
John Basker 
William Bason 
Donnor Bass 
Juvery Bastin 
Michael Bastin 
Louis Baston 
Asa Batcheler 
Benjamin Bate 
Benjamin Bates 
Henry Bates 
James Bates 
William Batt* 
John Battersley 
John Battesker 
Adah Batterman 
Adam Batterman 
George Batterman 

(2) 
Joseph Batterman 

Bauraos 

Thomas Bausto 
Benjamin Bavedon 
George Baxter 
Malachi Baxter 
Richard Bayan 
Joseph Bayde 
Thomas Bayess 
John Bayley 
Joseph Baynes 
Jean Baxula 

John Bazee 
Daniel Beal 
Samuel Beal 
Joseph Beane 
James Beankey 
James Bearbank 
Jesse Bearbank 
Morgan Beard 
Moses Beard 
Daniel Beatty 
Benjamin Beasel 
Joseph Beaufort 
Perri Beaumont 



452 American Prisoners of the Revolution 



Andrew Beck 
Thomas Beck 
William Beckett 
Jonathan Beckwith 
Francis Bedell 
Frederick Bedford 
Joseph Bedford 
Thomas Bedford 
Benjamin Beebe 
Elias Beebe 
Joshua Beebe 
Benjamin Beeford 
James Beekman 
Walter Beekwith 
Lewis Begand 
Joseph Begley 
Joseph Belcher 
John Belding 
Pierre Belgard 
Aaron Bell 
Charles Bell 
Robert Bell 
Uriah Bell 
Alexander Bellard 
Joseph Belter 
Julian Belugh 
Jean Bengier 
Joseph Benloyde 
John Benn 
George Bennett 
John Bennett 
Joseph Bennett 
Peter Bennett 
Pierre Bennett 
Anthony Benson 
Stizer Benson 
David Benton 
John Benton 
Peter Bentler 
Nathaniel Bentley 

(2) 
Peter Bentley 
William Bentley 
Joshua M. Berason 
Joseoh Berean 
Julian Berger 
Lewis Bernall 
Francis Bernardus 
Francis Bercoute 
Jean Juquacid Berra 
Abner Berry 



Alexander Berry 
Benjamin Berry 
Daniel Berry 
Dennis Berry 
Edward Berry 
John Berry 
Peter Berry (2) 
Philip Berry 
Simon Berry 
William Berry (3) 
Philip Berrycruise 
William Berryman 
Jean Bertine 
Martin Bertrand 
John Bertram 
Andrew Besin 
Jean Beshire 
John Beszick 
James Bett 
Samuel Bevan 
Jean Bevin 
Benjamin Beverley 
Robert Bibbistone 
John Bice 
Andrew Bick 
John Bickety 
Charles Bierd 
David Bierd 
Joshua Bievey 
Benjamin Bigelow 
Oliver Bigelow 
Thomas Biggs 
Jean Bilarie 
Charles Bill (2) 
Garden Bill 
John Bill (2) 
Pierre Bill 
John Billard 
James Biller 
Samuel Billing 
Benjamin Billings 
Bradford Billings 
Ezekiel Billings 
Robert Billings 
David Billows 
Frarey Binnen 
Cirretto Biola 
Pierre Biran 
Alexander Birch 
Nathaniel Birch 
Joseph Bird 



Weldon Bird 
Thomas Birket 
Samuel Birming- 
ham 
Ezekiel Bishop 
Israel Bishop 
John Bishop (2) 
John Bissell 
Jack Bissick 
Osee Bissole 
Pierre Bitgayse 
Peter Bitton 
Daniel Black 
James Black (3) 
John Black 
Joseph Black 
Robert N. Black 
Samuel Black (2) 
Timothy Black 
William Black 
John Blackburn 
Alexander Black- 
hunt 
William Blackpond 
V. C. Blaine 
John Blair 
Charles Blake 
Increase Blake 
James Blake 
Samuel Blake 
Valentine Blake 
David Blanch 
Robert Blanch 
Joseph Blancher 
William Blanchet 
John Blanney 
Gideon Blambo 
Jesse Blacque 
Joseph Blateley 
Lubal Blaynald 
Asa Blayner _ 
Edward Blevin 
Benjamin Blimbey 
William Blimbey 
Joseph Blinde 
William Bliss 
Samuel Blissfield 
Juan Blodgett 
Seth Blodgett 
John Blond 
lycwis Blone 



Appendix 



. 453 



Louis Blong 
Peter Bloome (2) 
Samuel Bloomfield 
Jomes Blossom 
James Blowen 
John Bloxand 
William Bluard 
George Blumbarg 
George Blunt (4) 
William Blythe 
Matthew Boar 
John Bobier 
John Bobgier 
Joseph Bobham 
Jonathan Bocross 
Lewis Bodin 
Peter Bodwayne 
John Boelourne 
Christopher Boen 
Purdon Boen 
Roper Bogat 
James Boggart 
Ralph Bogle 
Nicholas Boiad 
Pierre Boilon 
William Boine 
Jacques Bollier 
William Bolt 
William Bolts 
Bartholomew Bon- 

avist 
Henry Bone 
Anthony Bonea 
Jeremiah Boneafoy 
James Boney 
Thomas Bong 
Barnabus Bonus 
James Bools 
William Books 
John Booth 
Joseph Borda 
Charles Borden 
John Borman 
James Borrall 
Joseph Bortuslies 
baniel Borus (2) 
Joseph Bosey 
Pierre Bosiere 
Jacques Bosse 
Ebenezer Boswell 
Gustavus Boswell 



Lewis Bothal 
Charles Bottis 
James Bottom 
Waller Bottom 
Augustin Boudery 
Augustus Boudery 
Anthony Bouea 
Theophilus Bould- 

ing 
Pierre Bounet 
Lewis Bourge 
John Boursbo 
Lawrence Bourslie 
Jean Boutilla 
Lewis Bouton 
Edward Boven 
Elijah Bowden 
Arden Bowen 
Elijah Bowen 
Ezekiel Bowen 
Paldon Bowen 
Thomas Bowen (3) 
William Bowen 
Willis Bowen 
James Bowers 
Thomas Bowers 
Fulbur Bowes 
James Bowles 
Daniel Bowman 
Benjamin Bowman 
Elijah Bowman (2) 
John Bowman 
Michael Bowner 
John Bowrie 
P. I. Bowree 
Jean Bowseas 
John Boyau 
Thomas Boyd 
John Boyde 
David Boyeau 
Francis Boyer 
Joseph Boyne 
Thomas Bradbridge 
Samuel Bradbury 
William Braden 
James Brader 
Samuel Bradfield 
William Bradford 
Abijah Bradley 
Alijah Bradley 
Daniel Bradley 



James Bradley 
Abraham Bradley 
John Brady 
James Bradyon 
Ebenezer Bragg (2) 
William Bragley 
Nathaniel Braily 
Zacheus Brainard 
Joseph Brainer 
Zachary Brainer 
William Bramber 
James Branart 
Aholibah Branch 
William Brand 
Ralf Brandford 
Charles Branel 
William Bransdale 
David Branson 
Peter Braswan 
Peter Brays (2) 
Burdon Brayton 
Peter Brayton 
John Bredford 
James Brehard 
Elijah Bremward 
Pierre Brene 
George Brent 
Pierre Bretton 
John Brewer 
Samuel Brewer 
Joseph Brewett 
James Brewster (2) 
Seabury Brewster 

ohn Brice 

homas Bridges 
Glond Briges 
Cabot Briggs 
Alexander Bright 
Henry Brim 
Peter Brinkley 
Ephraim Brion 
Louis Brire 
Thomas Brisk 
Simon Bristo 
Jalaher C. Briton 
Peter Britton 
Thomas Britton 
Ephraim Broad (2) 
Ossia Broadley 
Joseph Broaker 
Joshua Brocton 



{' 



454 American Prisoners of the Revolution 



Philip Broderick 
William Broderick 
(2) 

Joseph Broge 
William Brooker 
Charles Brooks (2) 
Henry Brooks 
Paul Brooks 
Samuel Brooks (2) 
Thomas Brooks 
Benjamin Brown 
Christopher Brown 
David Brown (2) 
Francis Brown 
Gustavus Brown (2) 
Hugh Brown (2) 
Jacob Brown 
James Brown (3) 
Jonathan Brown 
John Brown (12) 
Joseph Brown (3) 
Michael Brown 
Nathaniel Brown 
Patrick Brown 
Peter Brown 
Samuel Brown (3) 
William Brown (5) 
W. Brown 
William Boogs 

Brown 
Willis Brown 
Essick Brownhill 
Wanton Brownhill 
Charles Brownwell 
Gardner Brownwell 
Pierre Brows 
James Bruding 
Lewis Brun 
Daniel Bruton 
Edward Bryan 
John Bryan 
Matthew Bryan 
Nathaniel Bryan 
William Bryan 
Benjamin Bryand 
Ephraim Bryand 
James Bryant 
William Bryant 
Nicholas Bryard 
Francis Bryean 
Richard Bryen 



Berr Bryon 
Thomas Bryon 
Simon Buas 
Thomas Buchan 
Francis Buchanan 
Elias Buck 
Elisha Buck 
John Buck 
Joseph Bucklein 
Philip Buckler 
Cornelius Buckley 
Daniel Buckley (2) 
Francis Buckley 
Jacob Buckley 
John Buckley (3) 
Daniel Bucklin (2) 
Samuel Buckwith 
David Buckworth 
Benjamin Bud 
Nicholas Budd 
Jonathan Budding- 
ton 
Oliver Buddington 
Waller Buddington 
William Budgid 
John Budica 
Joshua Buffins 
Lawrence Buffoot 
John Bugger 
Silas Bugg 
John Buldings 
Jonathan Bulgedo 
Benjamin Bullock 
Thomas Bullock 
Benjamin Bumbley 
Lewis Bunce 
Norman Bunce 
Thomas Bunch 
Antonio Bund 
Obadiah Bunke 
Jonathan Bunker 
Timothy Bunker 
William Bunker 
Richard Bunson (2) 
Murdock Buntine 
Frederick Bunwell 
Thomas Burch 
Michael Burd 
Jeremiah Burden 
Joseph Burden 
William Burden 



Jason Burdis 
Daniel Burdit 
Bleck Burdock 
Robert Burdock 
Vincent Burdock 
Henry Burgess 
Theophilus Burgess 
Barnard Burgh 
Prosper Burgo 
Jean Burham 
James Burke 
Thomas Burke 
William Burl^e 
Michael Burkman 
William Burn 
Frederick Burnett 
James Burney 
James Burnham 
Daniel Burnhill 
Archibald Burns 
Edward Burns (2) 
Henry Burns 
John Burns 
Thomas Burns 
Stephen Burr 
Pierre Burra 
Francis Burrage 
John Burrell 
Lewis Burrell 
Isaac Burrester 
Jonathan Burries 
Nathaniel Burris 
John Burroughs 
Edward Burrow 
James Burton 
John Burton 
Jessee Byanslow 
Bartholomew Byi 
John Bylight 

C 

Abel Cable 

Louis Cadat 

Louis Pierre Ca- 

date 
Michael Cadate 
John Caddington 
Nathan Caddock 
Jean Cado 
John Cahoon 
Jonathan Cahoone 



Appendix 



455 



Thomas Caile 
David Cain (2) 
Thomas Cain 
Samuel Caird 
Joseph Caivins 
Pierre Cajole 
Thomas Calbourne 
James Calder 
Caplin Calfiere 
Nathaniel Calhoun 
Charles Call 
Barnaby Callagham 
Daniel Callaghan 
William Callehan 
James Callingham 
Andrew Caiman 
Francis Calon 
Parpi Calve 
Nicholas Calwell 
Joseph Cambridge 
Edward Cameron 
Simon Came 
Oseas Camp 
Alexander Camp- 
bell 
Frederick Camp- 
bell 
James Campbell 
Jesse Campbell 
John Campbell (2) 
Joseph Campbell 
Philip Campbell (2) 
Robert Campbell 
Thomas Campbell 

(2) 
James Canady 
Joseph Canana 
Satarus Candie 
Jacob Canes 
Richard Caney 
Jacob Canmer 
William Cannady 
William Canner 
Charles Cannon 
Francis Cannon 
John Cannon 
Joseph Cannon 
Samuel Cannon 
Jean Canute 
Francis Cape 
Timothy Cape 



Daniel Capnell 
William Caran- 

same 
Robert Carbury 
Juan Fernin Car- 

dends 
Joseph Carea 
Isaac Carelton 
Joseph Carender 
Ezekiel Carew 
Daniel Carey 
John Carey (4) 
Joshua Carey 
Richard Carey 
William Cargall 
Joseph Cariviot 
Edward Carland 
Antonio Carles 
William Carles 
Jean Carlton 
Thomas Carlton 
John Carlisle 
Justan Carlsrun 
Benjamin Carman 
Benjamin Carmell 
William Carmenell 
Edward Carmody 
Anthony Carney 
Hugh Carney 
David Cams 
Jean Carolin 
Pierre Carowan 
John Carpenter 
Miles Carpenter 
Richards Carpenter 
Edward Carr 
Isaac 'Carr 
John Carr (2) 
Philip Carr 
William Carr 
Robert Carrall 

Carret 

Thomas Carrington 
Jean Carrllo 
James Carroll 
John Carroll 
Michael Carroll 
Perance Carroll 
William Carrollton 
John Carrow 
Peter Carroway 



Avil Carson 
Batterson Carson 
Israel Carson 
James Carson 
Robert Carson (2). 
Samuel Carson 
William Carson- 
Levi Carter 
Thomas Carter 
William Carter (2) 
John Carvell 
Joseph Casan 
Joseph Casanova 
John Case 
Thomas Case 
Thomas CaseAvell 
Edward Casey 
John Casey 
William Casey 
Stephen Cash 
Jacob Cashier 
Jean Cashwell 
Gosper Cassian 
Samuel Casson 
John Casp 
Anthony Casper 
Michael Cassey 
John Castel 
Joseph Castile 
Thomas Castle (2) 
John Caswell (3) 
Baptist Cavalier 
Francis Cavalier 
George Cavalier 
James Cavalier 
Thomas Cavalier 
Joseph x\ugustus 

Cayell 
Gasnito Cavensa 
Thomas Caveral 
Pierre Cawan 
John Cawrier 
John Cawrse 
Edward Cayman 
Anthony Cayner 
Oliver Cayaran 
John Cerbantin 

Chabbott 

Perrie Chalier 
Samuel Chalkeley 
Hurbin Challigne 



456 American Prisoners of the RevoIvUtion 



John Challoner Samuel Cheesebrook Daniel Clarke 

William Challoner Britton Cheeseman Jacob Clarke 
Pierre Chalore James Cheevers 

Benjamin Cham- Christopher Che 



berlain 
Bird Chamberlain 
Charles Chamber- 
land 
Nancy Chambers 
Dore Champion 
Lines Champion 



James Clarke 
Joshua Clarke 
Lewis Clarke 



Benjamin Chencey Nicholas Clarke 



Noel Clarke 
Stephen Clarke 
Theodore Clarke 
Timothy Clarke 
William Clarke (2) 



Louis Chenet 
John Cherry 
William Cherry 
John Chese 
Hiram Chester 
Thomas Champion Benjamin Chevalier Samuel Clarkson 
Clerk Champlin John Chevalier Samuel Claypole 

Jean Gea Chevalier Edward Clayton 
Julian Chevalier William Clayton 
Edward Cheveland David Cleaveland 
Lasar Chien Michel Clemence 

Silas Childs Clement Clements 

Cadet Chiller Alexander Clerk 

Thomas Chilling Gambaton Clerk 
Abel Chimney 



Isaac Champlin 
James Chapin 
Joseph Chapley 
Joseph Chaplin 
Josiah Chaplin 
Lodowick Chaplin 
Daniel Chapman 



James Chapman Abel Chimney Isaac Clerk 

Jeremiah Chapman David Chinks Jacob Clerk 

John Chapman (2) Leshers Chipley Jonathan Clerk 
Lion Chapman William Christan John Clerk (3) 

Samuel Chapman William Christan Lardner Clerk 
Charles Chappel Henry Christian Nathaniel Clerk 
Frederick Chappell John Christian (2) Peleg Clerk 
John Chappell James Christie Thomas Clerk (3) 

Benjamin ChittingtonTully Clerk 
Bartholomew Chivers William Clerk 
Benjamin ChopmanThomas Clever 
Matthew Chubb Jean Clineseau 
David Chueehook David Clinton 
Benjamin Church (2) Philip Clire 



John Charbein 
Ichabod Chard 
William CharfiU 
James Charles 
John Charles 
Jean Charoner 
Aaron Chase 



Israel Church 



Augustus Chase (2) Thomas Church 



John Churchill 

Pierre Clabe 

Edward Clamron 

Benjamin Clannan 

Edward Clanwell 

Supply Clap (2) 

Supply Twing ClapRichard Cobb 

Edward Glaring Thomas Cobb 



John Cloud 
John Coarsin 
Christian Cobb 
Christopher Cobb 
Francis Cobb 
John Cobb 
Jonathan Cobb 
Nathaniel Cobb 



Earl Chase (2) 
George Chase (2) 
Lonie Chase 
Samuel Chase 
Jean Chatfield 
Jovis Chaurine 
John Cheavelin 
Christopher Chen 

aur Charles Clark 

Louis Chenet Church Clark 

Andrew C-heese- James Clark (2) 

brook John Clark 

David Cheesebrook Jubal Clark 

James CheesebrookWilliam Clark (2) James Cochran 
Pierre Cheesebrook Emanuel Clarke John Cochran (2) 



Christopher Cobbs 
Raymond Cobbs 
Timothy Cobley 
Moses Cobnan 
EHphas Coburn 



Appendix 



457 



Richard Cochran 
John Cocker 
John Cocklin 
Equatius Code 
Lewis Codean 
Christopher Cod- 
man 
James Codner 
Abel Coffin 
Edward Coffin 
Elias Coffin 
Elisha Coffin (2) 
Obadiah Coffin (2) 
Richard Coffin 
Simon Coffin (2) 
Zechariah Coffin 
William Cogeshall 
John Coggeshall 
Robert Coghill 
John Cohlen 
David Coisten 
Guilliam Cokill 
James Colbert 
Abial Cole 
Benjamin Cole (2) 
John Cole (2) 
Joshua Cole 
Rilhard Cole 
Thomas Cole (2) 
Waller Cole 
David Coleman 
James Coleman 
Nicholas Coleman 
Stephen Coleman 
James Colford 
Miles Colhoon 
Lewis Colinett 
Alexander CoUey 
Basquito Colley 
Septor en Collie 
Candal Collier 
John Collings 
Joseph Collingwood 
Doan Collins 
Tames Collins (2) 
John Collins (3) 
Joseph Collins 
Powell Collins 
William Collins 
Daniel Collohan 
Thomas Collough 



Joseph Colloy 
Elisha Colman 
John Colney 
Frederick Colson 
Jam.es Colting 
Julian Columb 
Julian Colver 
David Colvich 
Nathaniel Colwell 
Nathaniel Combick 
Joseph Combs 
Matthew Combs 
Joseph Comby 
Gilbert Comick 
Patrick Condon 
Stafford Condon 
Philip Cong 
Strantly Congdon 
Muller Congle 
John Connell 
John Connelly 
George Conner 
James Conner 
John Conner (2) 
Robert Conner 
Patrick Connelly 
Samuel Connelly 
John Connor 
William Connor 
George Conrad 
Frederick Contaney 
William Convass 
John Conway 
Thomas Conway 
Robert Conwell 
Amos Cook 
Anthony Cook 
Benjamin Cook 
Eashak Cook 
Esbric Cook 
Ezekiel Cook (2) 
Frederick Cook 
George Cook 
James Cook (3) 
John Cook (4) 
Joseph Cook 
Richard Cook 
Samuel Cooke 
Stephen Cooke 
Abraham Cooper 
Ezekiel Cooper 



Matthew Cooper (2) 
Mot Cooper 
Nathaniel Cooper (3) 
Richard Cooper 
Warren Cooper 
William Cooper 
Aaron Cooping 
Joseph Copeland 
Andrew Cord 
Joseph Cornean 
Peter Cornelius 
John Cornell 
Matthew Cornell 
James Corner 
Benjamin Corning 
Robert Cornwell 
William Cornwell 
Bernard Corrigan 
John Corrigan 
John Corroll 
Battson Corson 
Pomeus Corson 
Lewis Cortland 
Robert Corwell 
Joseph de Costa 
Antonio Costo 
Noel Cotis 
Anghel Cotter 
David Cotteral 
David Cottrill 
James Couch 
John Couch 
Thomas Coudon 
John Coughin 
Pierre Coulanson 
Nathaniel Connan 
Francis Connie 
Perrie Coupra 
Jean de Course 
Leonard Courtney 
Louis Couset 
Joseph Cousins 
Frances Cousnant 
Jean Couster 
John Coutt 
Vizenteausean Co- 

vazensa 
John Coventry 
John Coverley 
Peter Covet 
Zechariah Coward 



458 American Prisoners of the Revolution 



James Cowbran 
James Cowen 
John Cowins 
Edward Cownovan 
Enoch Cox 
Jacob Cox 
John Cox 
Joseph Cox (2) 
Portsmouth Cox 
William Cox 
Thurmal Coxen 
Asesen Craft 
Joseph Craft 
Matthias Craft (2) 
Jam-es Craig 
Thomas Craig 
Henry Crandall 
Oliver Crane 
Philip Crane 
Samuel Crane 
William Cranston 
Abel Crape (2) 
Thomas Craton (2) 
Joshua Cratterbrook 
Alias Crawford 
Benjamin Crawford 
John Crawford (4) 
Richard Crawford 
Samuel Crawford 
William Crawford 
Basil Crawley 
Cornelius Crawley 
Isaac Crayton (2) 
James Crayton 
Amos Creasey 
Richard Creech 
Thomas Creepman 
William Cresean 
William Cresley 
Henry Cressouson 
Michael Crider 
John Crim 
Others Cringea 
William Crispin (2) 
George Cristin 
Benjamin Crocker 
James Crocker 
John Crocker 
Joshua Crocker (2) 
John Croix 
Oliver Cromell 



Oliver Cromwell 

.(4) 
Richmond Crom- 
well 
Robert Cromwell 
Hugh Crookt 
John Croppen 
Bunsby Crorker 
Peter Crosbury 
Daniel Crosby (3) 
William Crosley 
Joseph Cross 
Thomas Crough 
Christian Crowdy 
Matthew Crow 
Bissell Crowell 
Seth Crowell 
William Crowell 
George Crown 
Michael Crowyar 
William Crozier 
Janeise Cubalod 
Benjamin Cuffey 
Philip Cuish 
Thomas Culbarth 
Daniel Culbert 
William Cullen (2) 
David Cullett 
Willis Culpper 
Levi Culver 
Samuel Culvin 
Josea Comnano 
Cornelius Cumstock 
Isaac Cuningham 
James Cunican 
Barnabas Cunning- 
ham 
Cornelius Cunning- 
ham 
John Cunningham 
Jacob Currel 
Anthony Curry 
Augustine Curry 
Robert Curry 
Daniel Curtis 
Frederick Curtis 
Joseph Curtis 
Henry Curtis 
Joseph Cushing 
Robert Cushing 
Eimnan Cushing 



D 

Guilliam Dabuican 
Jean Dabuican 
John Daccarmell 
Isaac Dade (2) 
Jean Dadica 
Silas Daggott 
John Dagure 
Benjamin Dail 
James Daily (2) 
Patrick Daily 
Robert Daily 
Samuel Daily (2) 
William Daily 
Jam^es Dalcahide 
Jeremiah Dalley 
Reuben Damon 
Thomas Danby 
Christopher Daniel 
John Daniel (3) 
Samuel Daniss 
Benjamin Dannison 
William Dannison 
William Dannivan 
Benjamin Darby 
William Darby 
W. Darcey 
Thomas Darley 
Henry Darling (2) 
Richard Darling 
William Darling 
Charles Darrough 
Robert Dart 
Samuel Daun 
Basteen Davan 
James Daveick 
Lot Davenport 
Christopher Davids 
John Davidson 
Samuel Davidson 
Pierre Davie 
Benjamin Davies 

Christopher Davies 
Edward Davies 
Eliga Davies 
Elijah Davies 
Feltcn Davies 
John Davies (9) 
Henry Davies 
Lewis Davies 



Appendix 



459 



Richard Davies (2) 
Samuel Davies (3) 
Thomas Davies (3) 
William Davies (3) 
Benjamin Davies 

(2) 
Charles Davis 
Christopher Davis 
Curtis Davis 
Henry Davis 
Isaac Davis 
James Davis 
John Davis (2) 
Lewis Davis 

-Samuel Davis 
Thomas Davis 

»William Davis 
Thomas Dawn 
Henry Dawne 
Samuel Dawson 
John Day 
Joseph Day 
Michael Day 
Thomas Day (2) 
William Day 
Joseph Days 
William Dayton 
Demond Deaboney 
Jonathan Deakons 
Isaac Deal 
John Deal 
Elias Deale (2) 
Daniel Dealing 
Benjamin Deamond 
Benjamin Dean 
Levi Dean 
Lewis Dean 
Orlando Dean 
Philip Dean 
Archibald Deane 
George Deane 
Joseph Deane 
Thomas Deane 
Michael Debong 
James Debland 
Peter Deboy 
Benorey Deck 
Joseph de Costa 
Jean de Course 
Francis Dedd 
Defourgue 



Jean Degle 
Pierre Degoniere 
Pierre Guiseppe 

Degue 
William Degue 
Louis Degune 
Pratus Dehango 
Jacob Dehart 
Jasper Deinay 
Domingo Delace 
Zabulon Delano 
Gare Delare 
Gaspin Delary 
Anthony Delas 
Amos Delavan 
Pierre Delavas 
Joseph Delcosta 
Francis Delgada 
Henry Delone 
Anthony Delore 
James Demay 
David Demeny 
Israel Deming 
Josiah Demmay 
Element Demen 
Jean Demolot 
Richard Dempsey 
Avery Denauf 
Daniel Denica 
Beebe Denison 
Deverick Dennis 
James Dennis 
John Dennis (3) 
Jonas Dennis 
Joseph Dennis (2) 
Moses Dennis 
Paine Dennis 
Lemuel Dennison 
John Denoc 
David Denroron 
John Denronons 
Lewis Depue 
Manuel Deralia 
John Derboise 
Daniel Deroro 
Daniel Derry 
William Derry 
Louis Deshea 
John Desiter 
Jacob Dessino 
Jeane Devaratte 



Isaac Devay 
Gabriel Devay 
James Devereux 
Robert Devereux 
James Deverick 
John Devericks 
Honor Devey 
Joseph Deville 
Frances Devise 
Daniel Devoe 
Thomas Devoy 
Aaron Dexter 
Benjamin Dexter 
Simon Dexter 
Elerouant Diabery 
Jonah Diah 
David Diber 
Archibald Dick 
Benjamin Dickenson 
Benjamin Dickinson 
Edward Dickinson 
Ichabod Dickinson 
John Dickinson 
Edward Dickerson 
Joseph Diers 
Thomas Diggenson 
Rone Digon 
Joseph Dillons 
John Dillow 
Benjamin Dimon 
Charles Dimon 
James Dimon 
Robert Dingee 
Elisha Dingo 
John Dingo 
Pierre Disaablan 
Mitchael Dissell 
John Diver 
Victoire Divie 
Christian Dixon 
Christopher Dixon 
Daniel Dixon 
James Dixon (2) 
John Dixon 
Nicholas Dixon 
Robert Dixon (2) 
William Dixon 
Etamin Dluice 
John Doan 
Joseph Dobbs 
John Dobiee 



460 American Prisoners of the Revolution 



Henry Docherty 
Hugh Docherty 
William Dodd (2) 
James Dodge 
George Doget 
Matthew Doggett 
Samuel Doggett (2) 
Timothy Doggie 
John Doherty (2) 
Thomas Doherty 
Josiah Dohn 
Samuel Dohn 
Robert Doin 
Frances Doisu 
John Dolbear 
Elisha Dolbuy 
John Dole 
Elisha Doleby 
Nathaniel Dollo- 

way 
Pierre Dominica 
Jean Domrean 
Barton Donald 
Anthony Donalds 
Daniel Donaldson 
Mc Donalin 
Solomon Donan 
John Dongan 
Peter C Dongue 
Anthony Dongues 
Benjamin Donham 
Devereux Donies 
George Donkin 
Francis Dora 
John McDora Dora 
Nathaniel Dorcey 
Patrick Dorgan (3) 
Timothy Dorgan 
Joseph Dority 
Paul Paulding Dor- 
son 
Joseph Doscemer 
Jay Doudney 
Francis Douglas 
Robert Douglass 
William Douglass 
Iseno Douting. 
Thomas Douval 
James Dowdey 
William Dowden 
Hezekiah Dowen 
(2) 



John Dower 
Henry Dowling 
Francis Downen- 

roux 
Henry Dowling 
John Downey 
John Downing 
Peter Downing 
John Dowray 
James Doxbury 
Peter Doyle 
Murray Drabb 
Thomas Drake 
Jean DrauUard 
James Drawberry 
Samuel Drawere 
James Drayton 
William Dredge 
Abadiah Drew 
John Drew (2) 
Thomas Drewry 
John Driver 
Simeon Drown 
William Drown 
Jean Dubison 
James Dublands 
Thomas Dubois 
Henry Dubtoe 
Michael Duchaee 
Archibald Ducker 
Jean Duckie 
Martin Ducloy 
Abner Dudley 
Doulram Duffey 
Ezekiel Duffey 
Thomas Duffield 
Michael Duffin 
Thomas Duffy 
Jacques Duforte 
Franes Dugree 
Chemuel Duke 
John Duke 
William Duke 
Isaac Dukerson 
Michael Duless 
Terrence Dumra- 

ven 
James Dunbar 
George Duncan 
John Duncan 
James Duncan 
William Duncan 



Thomas Dung 
John Dunhire 
John Dunison 
James Dunkin 
Pierre Dunkwater 
Thomas Dunlope 
John Dunlope 
Thomas Dunlope 
Archibald Dunlopp 
Allan Dunlot 
John Dunmerhay 
Arthur Dunn 
Joseph Dunn 
Peter Dunn 
Sylvester Dunnam 
John Dunning 
Peter Dunning 
Thomas Dunnon 
Edene Dunreas 
Allen Dunslope 
William Dunton 
Stephen Dunwell 
Ehenne Dupee 
Thomas Duphane 
Francis Duplessis 
France Dupue 
Charles Duran 
Henry Duran 
Lewis Duran 
Glase Durand 
Jacques Durant 
Sylvester Durham 
Israel Durphey 
Jonathan J. Dur- 

vana 
Robert Duscasson 
Anthony Duskin 
Andrew Duss 
William Dussell 
Raoul Dutchell 
James Duverick 
Timothy Dwier 
William Dwine 
John Dwyer 
Timothy Dwyer 

(2) 
William Dwyman 
Alexander Dyer 
Fitch Dyer 
Hat Dyer 
Hubert Dyer 
Jonathan Dyer 



Appendix 



461 



Nathan Dyer 
Patrick Dyer 
Robert Dyer 
Roger Dyer 
Samuel Dyer 



David Each 
Simon Eachforsh 
David Eadoe 
Benjamin Earle 
Isaac Earle 
Lewis Earle 
Pardon Earle (2) 
Michael Eason 
Amos Easterbrook 
Charles Easterbrook 
John Eaves 
Joseph Ebben 
John Ebbinstone 
Avico Ecbeveste 
Joseph Echangueid 
Francis Echauegud 
Amorois Echave 
Lorendo Echerauid 
Francis Echesevria 
Ignatius Echesevria 
Manuel de Echeve- 

rale 
Fermin Echeuarria 
Joseph Nicola 

Echoa 
Thoman Ecley 

Edbron 

Thomas Eddison 
William Ede 
Butler Edelin 
Jessie Edgar 
John Edgar 
Thomas Edgar 
William Edgar (2) 
James Edgarton 
Philip Edgarton 
Doum Edmondo 
Henry Edmund 
John Edmund 
Alexander Edwards 
Charles Edwards 
Daniel Edwards 
Edward Edwards 
Henry Edwards 



James Edwards 
John Edwards 
Michael Edwards 
Rollo Edwards 
Thomas Edwards 



Walford Eskridge 
Antony Esward 
Anthony Eticore 
Joseph Eton 
Francis Eugalind 



William Edwards Joseph Eugalind 

(2) 

James Eggleston 
Samuel Eggleston 
James Egrant 
James Ekkleston 
Jonathan Elbridge 
Nathan Elder 
Luther Elderkin 
Daniel Elderton 
Aldub Eldred 



Nicholas Euston 
Alias Evans 
Pierre Evans 
Francis Eveane 
Lewis Eveane 
Lewis Even 
Peni Evena 
Pierre Evena 
Even Evens 
William Evens 



Daniel Eldridge (2) Jeremiah Everett 



Ezra Eldridge 
James Eldridge 
Thomas Eldridge 
William Eldridge 
William Eleves 
Richard Elgin 
John EH 
Benjamin Elias 
Benjamin EHth 
James Elkins 
Nicholas EUery 
Cornelius Elliott 
Daniel Elliott 
John Elliott 
Joseph Elliott 
Nathaniel Elliott 
Jonathan Ellis 
John Ellison (2) 
Theodore Ellsworth 
Stephen Elns 
Nathaniel Elridge 
Isaac Elwell 
John Elwell 
Samuel Elwell (3) 



Ebenezer Everall 
Robert Everley 
George Everson 
John Everson 
Benjamin Eves 
David Evins 
John Evins 
Peter Ewen 
Thomas Ewell 
William Ewell 
Peter Ewen 
Thomas Ewen 
James Ewing 
Thomas Ewing 
Juan Vicente 

passa 
Christian Eyes 



Ex- 



Jean Paul Fabalue 
John Faber 
Ashan Fairfield 
Benjamin Fairfield 
John Fairfield (2> 



James Emanuel (2) William Faithful 



George Emery 
Jean Emilgon 
John Engrum 
John Eoon 
Samuel Epworth 
John Erexson 
Ignaus Ergua 
Martin Eronte 
James Esk 



Henry Falam 
Ephraim Falkender 
George Falker 
Robert Fall 
Thomas Fallen 
Henry Falls 
Francis Fanch 
Jean Fanum 
John Farland 



461 



American Prisoners of the Revolution 



William Farmer 
John Faroe 
Michael Farrean 
William Farrow 
Thomas Fary 
Henry Fatem 
Jacob Faulke 
Robert Fauntroy 
Joseph Feebe 
Martin Feller 
James Fellows 
Nathaniel Fellows 
John Felpig 
Peter Felpig 
Benjamin Felt 
David Felter 
Thomas Fennall 
Cable Fennell 
John Fenton 
Cable Fenwell 
Joseph Ferarld 
Domigo Ferbon 
David Fere 
Matthew Fergoe 
Pierre Fermang 
Noah Fernal 
Francis Fernanda 
Thomas Fernandis 
Matthew Fernay 
Ephraim Fernon 
Fountain Fernray 
Ehemre Ferote 
Joseph Ferre 
Lewis Ferret 
Joseph Ferria 
Kennedy F e r r i 1 
Conway Ferris 
Paul Ferris 
William Fester 
Elisha Fettian 
Manuel Fevmandez 
Frederick Fiarde 
John Ficket 
Charles Field 
Tohn Fielding 
W. Fielding 
William Fielding 
John Fife 
Edwin Fifer 
Nathaniel Figg 
Benjamin Files 



Jean Francis Fil- 

lear 
Patrick Filler 
Ward Filton 
John Fimsey 
Bartholomew Fina- 

gan 
David Finch 
John Fincher 
George Finer 
Dennis Finesy 
Francis Finley 
James Finley 
Dennis Finn 
John Finn 
Jeremiah Finner 
Jonathan Finney 

(3) 
Seth Finney 
Thomas Finney 
Robert Firmie 
Joseph Firth 
Asel Fish 
Daniel Fish 
Ezekiel Fish 
John Fish 
Nathaniel Fish (2) 
John Fisham 
Abraham Fisher 
Archibald Fisher 
Isaac Fisher 
Jonathan Fisher 
Nathan Fisher 
Robert Fisher (3) 
Simon Fisher 
William Fisher (2) 
William Fisk 
John Fist 
Solomon Fist 
Ebenezer Fitch 
Jedeiah Fitch 
Josiah Fitch 
Peter Fitch 
Theopilus Fitch 
Timothy Fitch 
Henry Fitchett 
William Fithin 
Cristopher Fitts 
Patrick Faroh Fitz 
Edward Fitzgerald 
Patrick Fitzgerald 



Thomas Fleet 
John Fletcher 
John Fling 
William Fling 
John Flinn 
Berry Floyd 
Michael Fluort 
Thomas Fogg 
Francis Follard 
Jonathan Follett 
Stephen Follows 
John Folsom 
John Folston 
Joseph Fomster 
Louis Fongue 
Daniel Foot 
Sarnuel Foot 
Zakiel Foot 
John Footman 
Peter Forbes 
Bartholomew Ford 

(3) 
Daniel Ford 
George Ford (2) 
John Ford 
Philip Ford 
William Ford 
Benjamin Fordham 
Daniel Fore 
Hugh Foresyth 
Vancom Forque 
Matthew Forgough 
George Forket 
Samuel Forquer 
Nathaniel Forrest 
Francis Forster 
Timothy Forsythe 
John Fort 
Anthony Fortash 
Emanuel Fortaud 
John Fortune 
Thomas Fosdick 
Andrew Foster 
Asa Foster 
Boston Foster 
Conrad Foster 
Edward Foster 
Ephraim Foster 
Henry Foster (2) 
George Foster 
Jacob Foster 



Appendix 



463 



Jebediah Foster 
Josiah Foster (2) 
John Foster (6) 
Nathaniel Foster 
Nicholas Foster 
William Foster 
Ephraim Fostman 
John Fouber 
Francis Foubert 
William Foulyer 
Edward Fousler 
Pruden Fouvnary 
Gideon Fowler 
James Fowler (2) 
John Fowler (2) 
Joseph Fowler 
Michael Fowler 
John Butler Foy 
William Foy 
Jared Foyer 
Ebenezer Fox 
William Fox (3) 
Jacob Frailey (2) 
Fortain Frances 
John Frances 
Joseph Frances 
Scobud Frances 
John Francis 
Thomas Francis 

William Francis 
Manuel Francisco 
Jean Franco 
Jean Francois 
Anthony Frankie 
Pernell Franklin 
Christopher Franks 
Michael Franks 
John Frasier 
Thomas Frasier 
Nathaniel Frask 
John F. Fravers 
John Fravi 
William Frey 
Andrew Frazer 
Thomas Frazier 
Pierre Freasi 
Tman Frebel 
William Freebal 
Charles Freeman 
David Freeman 



Henry Freeman 
Humphrey Freeman 
John Freeman 
Thomas Freeman 

Zebediah Freeman 
James French 
Jonathan French 
Michael French 
Josias Frett 
John Fretto 
Juban Freway 
Anthony Frick 
Post Friend 
Shadrach Friend 
James Frieris 
Ebenezer Frisby 
Isaac Frisby 
Josiah Frith 
John Frost 
Joseph Frost (2) 
Peter Frume 
James Fry (2) 
Robert Fry 
Abijah Fryske 
Joseph Fubre 
Joseph Fuganey 
Joshua Fulg-er 
Reuben Fulger 
Stephen Fulger 
Benjamin Fuller 
James Fuller 
Joseph Fuller 
Thaddeus Fuller 
Thomas Fuller (2) 
George Fullum 
Tames Fulton 
Thomas Fulton 
Abner Furguson 
Samuel Furguson 
John Furse 
John Fury 
Iman Futter 



Eudrid Gabria 
Francis Gabriel 
Franes Gabriel 
Hernan Gage 
Isaac Gage 
Matthew Gage 



Stephen Gage 
Jonas Gale 
Joseph Galina 
Andrew Gallager 
John Gallard 
John Gallaspie 
Richard Galley 
William Gallway 
Anthony Gallys 
James Gamband 
James Gamble 
Joseph Gamble 
Peter Gambo 
Pierre Ganart 
William Gandee 
William Gandel 
Francis Gandway 
John Gandy 
Hosea Garards 
Antony Gardil 
Silas Gardiner 
William Gardiner 
Alexander Gardner 

(3) 
Dominic Gardner 
James Gardner (3) 
Joseph Gardner (5) 
Larry Gardner 
Robert Gardner 
Samuel Gardner 
Silas Gardner 
Thomas Gardner 
Uriah Gardner 
William Gardner 
Dominico Gardon 
John Garey 
Manolet Garico 
James Garish 
Paul Garish 
John Garland (2) 
Barney Garlena 
Joseph Garley 

Garner 

Silas Garner 
John Garnet 
Sylvester Garnett 
Isaac Garret 
Michael Garret 
John Garretson 
Antonio Garrett 
Jacques Garrett 



464 American Prisoners of the Revolution 



Richard Garrett 
William Garrett 
Louis C. Garrier 
Jacob Garrison (2) 
Joseph Garrison (3) 
Joseph Garrit 
Thomas Garriway 
Jean Garrow 
Roman Garsea 
William Garty 
Job Gascin 
Daniel Gasett 
Jacob Gasker 
Simon Gason (2) 
Manot Gasse 
John Gassers 
Francis Gater 
Charles Gates 
Peter Gaypey 
John Gault 
Paul Gaur 
Thomas Gaurmon 
Thomas Gawner 
Solomon Gay 
William Gay 
Charles Gayford 
John Gaylor 
Robert Geddes 
George George (2) 
George Georgean 
Hooper Gerard 
Riviere de Ggoslin 
George Gill 
John Gibbens 
Edward Gibbertson 
John Gibbons 
Charles Gibbs (3) 
John Gibbs (2) 
Andrew Gibson 
Benjamin Gibson 
George Gibson 
James Gibson 
William Gibson 
Stephen Giddron 
Archibald Gifford 
George Gilbert 
Timothy Gilbert 
George Gilchrist 
Robert Gilchrist 
John Giles 
Samuel Giles (2) 



Thomas Giles 
William Giles 
John Gill 
Philip Gill 
William Gill 
John Gilladen 
Jean B. Gillen 
Richard Gilleny 
William Gillespie 
John Gillis 
John Gillison 
David Gillispie 
David Gillot 
Toby Gilmay 
John Gilmont 
Nathaniel Gilson 
Thomas Gimray 
Peter Ginnis 
Jean Ginnow 
Baptist Giraud 
Joseph Girca 
William Gisburn 
Francis Gissia 
Jean Glaied 
Charles Glates 
Jean Glease 
Jean Gleasie 
Gabriel Glenn 
Thomas Glerner 
William Glesson 
James Gloacque 
William Glorman 
Edward Gloss 
Michael Glosses 
Daniel Gloiid 
Jonathan Glover 
'William Glover 
Thomas Goat 
Ebenezer Goddard 
Nicholas Goddard 
Thomas Goddard 
Joseph Godfrey 
Nathaniel Godfrey 
Samuel Godfrey 
Simon Godfrey 
Thomas Godfrey 
William Godfrey (4) 
Francis Godfry 
Pierre Godt 
Vincent Goertin 
Patrick Goff 



John Going 
Ebenezer Gold 
John Colston 
William Colston 
Robert Comer 
Pierre Goodall 
George Goodby 
Simon Goodfrey 
Eli Goodfry 
Lemuel Gooding 
George Goodley 
Francis Goodman 
Eli Goodnow 
EHzer Goodrich 
Jesse Goodrich 
Solomon Goodrich 
James Goodwick 
Charles Goodwin 
Daniel Goodwin 
George Goodwin 
Gideon Goodwin 
Ozeas Goodwin 
Abel Goose 
James Gootman 
Abel Goove 

Goquie 

Jonathan Coram (2) 
John Cord 
Andrew Gordan 
Andrew Gordon 
James Gordon (2) 
Peter Gordon 
Stephen Gordon 
Jesse Gore 
Jonathan Gcreham 
James Gorham 
Jonathan Gorham 
Shubert Gorham 
Joseph Gormia 
Christian Goson 
William Goss 
Jean Gotea 
George Gothe 
Charles Gotson 
Francis Goudin 
Lewis Gouire 
Augustus Goute 
Francis Goutiere 
Joseph Goveir 
Sylverter Govell 
George Gowell (2) 



Appendix 



465 



Henry Gowyall 
Jean Goyear 
Matthew Grace 
William Grafton 
Alexander Graham 
Robert Graham 
Samuel Graham 
David Graines 
Robert Grame 
L. A. Granada 
William Granby 
Adam Grandell 
Alexander Grant ^ 
Thomas Grant 
William Grant _ 
Thomas Grassing 
William Gratton 
Ebenezer Graub 
Dingley Gray 
Franes Gray 
Joseph Gray (2) 
James Gray 
Samuel Gray 
Simeon Gray 
Simon Gray 
William Gray 
Isaac Greeman 
Allen Green 
Elijah Green (2) 
Elisha Green 
Henry Green 
John Green (9) 
Joseph Green (2) 
Robert Green 
Rufus Green 
William Green (3) 
Green Greenbury 
Enoch Greencafe 
James Greene (3) 
John Greene (4) 
Samuel Greene 
John Greenes 
Richard Greenfield 
Abner Greenleaf 
John Greenoth 
William Greenville 
Barton Greenville 
Malum Greenwell 
Robert Greenwold 
Jacob Greenwood 
David Gregory 

—30 



Stephen Gregory 

(2) 
Ebenezer Grenach 
William Grennis 
Ebenezer Grenyard 
Samuel Grey 
Charles Grier 
Isaac Grier 
Mather Grier 
William Grierson 
Moses Griffen 
Alexander Griffin 
Daniel Griffin 
Elias Griffin 
James Griffin (2) 
Jasper Griffin 
Joseph Griffin 
Moses Griffin (2) 
Peter Griffin 
Rosetta Griffin 
James Griffith 
William Griffith 
James Grig 
John Griggs 
Thomas Grilley 
Peter Grinn 
Philip Griskin 
Edward Grissell 
Elijah Griswold 
Jotun Griswold 
John Grogan 
Joseph Grogan 
Josiah Grose 
Peter Grosper 
Benjamin Gross 
Michael Gross 
Simon P. Gross 
Tonos Gross 
Peleg Grotfield 
John Grothon 
Andrew Grottis 
Joseph Grouan 
Michael Grout 
Stephen Grove 
Thomas Grover (2) 
John Gruba 
Samuel Grudge 
Peter Gruin 
George Grymes 
John Guae 
Cyrus Guan 



Elisha Guarde 
John Guason 
John Guay 
Bense Guenar 
Nathaniel Gugg 
Pierre Guilber 
John Guilley 
Peter Guin 
William Guinep 
Joseph Guiness 
Joseph Guinet 
William Gulirant 
Joseph Gullion 
Souran Gult 
Jean Gumeuse 
Antonio Gundas 
Julian Gunder 
William Gunnup 
Jean Gunteer 
Pierre Gurad 
Anthony Gurdell 
Franes Gusboro 
George Guster 
Jean Joseph Guth- 

and 
Francis Guvare 
William Gwinnup 

H 

Samuel Hacker 
John Hackett 
Benjamin Haddock 
Caraway Hagan 
Anthony de la Hage 
James Haggarty 
John Haglus 
Ebenezer Hail 
David Halbort 
William Haldron. 
Matthew Hales 
Aaron Hall 
Ebenezer Hall 
Isaac Hall 
James Hall 
John Hall (3) 
Joseph Hall 
London Hall 
Lvman Hall 
Millen Hall 
Moses Hall 
Nathan Hall 



466 American Prisoners of the Revoi^ution 



Samuel Hall 
Spence Hall 
Thomas Hall (3) 
William Hall 
AVillis Hall 
Thomas Hallahan 
James Hallaughan 
Benjamin Hallett 

(2) 
James Hallett (2) 
Ephraim Halley 
John Halley 
Joseph Halley (2) 
Samuel Halley 
Richard Halley 
Charles Hallwell 
Henry Halman 
William Halsey 
Moses Halton 
Jesse Halts 
Byron Halway 
Benjamin Halwell 
James Ham 
Levi Ham 
Reuben Hambell 
William Hamber 
Empsen Hamilton 
Henry Hamilton 

(2) 
John Hamilton (Z) 
William Hamilton 

(2) 
Flint Hammer 
Charles Hammond 
Elijah Hammond 
Homer Hammond 
James Hammond 
Joseph Hammond 
Thomas Hamsby 
James Hanagan 
Stephen ;Hanagan 
Henry Hance 
Abraham Hancock 
Samuel Hancock 
Elias Hand 
Elijah Hand 
Gideon Hand 
Joseph Hand (2) 
Thomas Hand 
William Hand 
Levi Handy 



Thomas Handy (3) 
John Hanegan 
Josiah Hanes 
Patrick Hanes 
Samuel Hanes 
John Haney 
Gideon Hanfield 
Peter Hankley 
Every Hanks 
John Hannings 
Hugh Hanson 
James Hanwagon 
Jonathan Hanwood 
John Hanwright 
Neil Harbert 
John Harbine 
Daniel Harbley 
Augustus Harbor- 

ough 
Peter Harcourt 
Jean Hard 
Lewis Harden 
Richard Harden 
William Harden 
Turner Hardin 
Frances Harding 
Nathaniel Harding 

(2) 
George Hardy 
James Hardy 
Joseph Hardy (2) 
Thomas Harens 
John Harfun 
Joel Hargeshonor 
Jacob Harsous 
Abraham Hargus 
Thomas Harkasy 
John Harket 
Solomon Harkey 
Thomas Harkins 
Charles Harlin 
Selden Harley 
Solomon Harley 
Byron Harlow 
John Harman 
Richard Harman 
John Harmon 
Joseph Harner 
William Harragall 
John Harragall 
Lewis Harrett 



Bartholomew Har- 
rington 
Daniel Harrington 
Charles Harris 
Edward Harris 
Francis Harris 
George Harris 
Hugh Harris 
James Harris (2) 
John Harris (2) 
Joseph Harris 
Nathaniel Harris 

(2) 
Robert Harris 
William Harris 
Charles Harrison 
Elijah Harrison 
Gilbert Harrison 
John Harrison 
William Harron 
Charles Harroon 
Cornelius Hart 
Jacob de Hart 
John Hart 
Samuel Hartley 
Jacob Hartman 
James Hartshorne 
Thomas Hartus 
John Harwood 
John Harvey 
Peter Haselton 
Michael Hashley 
Philip Hashton 
John Hasker 
Jacob Hassa 
John Hassett 
John Hassey 
Benjamin Hatam 
Charles Hatbor 
Edward Hatch 
Jason Hatch 
Nailor Hatch 
Prince Hatch 
Reuben Hatch 
William Hatch 
Edward Hatchway 
Burton Hathaway 
Jacob Hathaway 
Russell Hathaway 
Woolsey Hatha- 
way 



Appendix 



467 



Andrew Hatt 
Shadrach Hatway 
Michael Haupe 
Jacob Hauser 
William Hawke 
Jacob Hawker 
John Hawker 
John Hawkin 
Christopher Haw- 
kins 
Jabez Hawkins 
John Hawkins (2) 
Thomas Hawkins 
Jacob Hawstick 
John Hawston 
George Haybud 
Benjamin Hayden 
Nicholas Hayman 
David Hayne 
Joseph Haynes 
Peter Haynes (3) 
Thomas Haynes 
William Haynes 
David Hays 
Patrick Hays 
Thomas Hays 
William Hays 
William Haysford 
Benjamin Hazard 
John Hazard 
Samuel Heageork 
Gilbert Heart 
Samuel Heart 
Joseph Hearth 
Charles Heath 
Joseph Heath 
Seren Heath 
Seson Heath 
Jack Hebell 
Heraclus Hedges 
George Heft 
Edmund Helbow 
Matthias Hellman 
Lacy Helman 
Thomas Helman 
Odera Hemana 
Daniel Hem-dy 
Jared Hemingway 
Alexander Hender- 
son 
Ephraim Hender- 
son 



Joseph Henderson 
Michael Hender- 
son 
■Robert Henderson 
William Hender- 
son 
Archibald Hendray 
Robert Hengry 
Leeman Henley 
Butler Henry 
James Henry 
John Henry (3) 
Joseph Henry 
Michael Henry (2) 
William Henry (2) 
John Hensby 
Patrick Hensey (2) 
Enos Henumway 
Dennis Henyard 
Samson Herart 
Thomas Herbert 
Philip Herewux 
Ephraim Herrick 
John Herrick (2) 
William Herrick 
Michael Herring 
William Herring 
Robert Herrow 
Robert Herson 
Robert Hertson 
Augustin Hertros 
Stephen Heskils 
John Hetherington 
John Hewengs 
Lewis Hewit 
William Heysham 
Diah Hibbett 
John Hibell 
Michael Hick 
Daniel Hickey 
Baptist Hicks 
Benjamin Hicks 
John Hicks 
Isaac Higgano 
George Higgins 
Ichabod Higgins 
Samuel Higgins 
Stoutly Higgins 
William Higgins 

(3) 
Henry Highlander 
John Highlenede 



John Hill (2) 
James HiU 
Joshua Hill (2) 
Thomas HiU (2) 
Edward Hilley 
James HilUard 
Joseph Hilliard 
Nicholas Hillory 
Hale Hilton 
Nathaniel Hilton 
Benjamin Himsley 
Peter Hinch 
James Hines 
William Hinley 
Aaron Hinman 
William Hinman 
Nathaniel Hinnran 
Jonathan Hint 
John Hirich 
Christian Hiris 
Samuel Hiron 
John Hisburn 
Nathaniel Hise 
Samuel Hiskman 
John Hislop 
Philip Hiss 
Loren Hitch 
Robert Hitch 
Joseph Hitchband 
Edward Hitchcock 
Robert Hitcher 
John Hitching 
x\rthur Hives 
Willis Hoag 
Edwin Hoane 
Henry Hobbs 
William Hobbs 
Jacob Hobby 
Nathaniel Hobby 
Joseph Hockless 
Hugh Hodge 
Hercules Hodges 

(2) 
Benjamin Hodgkin- 

son 
Samuel Hodgson 
Conrad Hoffman 
Cornelius Hoffman 
Roger Hogan 
Stephen Hogan 
Stephen Hoggan 
Alexander Hogsart 



468 American Prisoners of the Revolution 



Jacob Hogworthy 
Ephraim Hoist 
Humphrey Hoites 
Ivemuel Hokey 
William Hold 
William Holden 
Thomas Holdridge 
John Holland 
Michael Holland 
William Holland 

(2) 

Nicholas Hollen 
William Holliday 
Michael Holloway 
Myburn Holloway 
Grandless Holly 
Henry Holman 
Isaac Holmes 
James Holmes 
Joseph Holmes 
Nathaniel Holmes 
Thomas Holmes (3) 
George Holmstead 
Charles Hole 
Samuel Holt 
James Home 
Jacob Homer 
William Homer 
William Honeyman 
Simon Hong 
Warren Honlap 
Daniel Hood (3) 
Nicholas Hoogland 

(2) 
George Hook 
John Hook (2) 
George Hooker 
Ezekiel Hooper 
John Hooper (3) 
Michael Hooper (3) 
Sweet Hooper 
Caleb Hopkins 
Christopher Hopkins 
John Hopkins 
Michael Hopkins 
Stephen Hopkins 
William Hopkins 
Edward Hopper 
John Hopper 
Richard Hopping 
Levi Hoppins 
Joseph Horn (2) 



Jacob Home 
John Home 
Ralph Home 
Samuel Home 
Augusta Horns 
Michael Horoe 
Charles Horsine 
Ephraim Hort 
Jean Hosea 
John Hosey 
Jean Hoskins 
James Hottahon 
Ebenezer Hough 
Enos House 
Seren House 
Noah Hovard 
Joseph Hovey 
John Howe 
Absalom Howard 
Ebenezer Howard 
John Howard 
Richard Howard 
Thomas Howard 
William Howard (3) 
James Howburn 
Edward Howe 
John Howe 
Thomas Howe 
Ebenezer Howell 
Jesse Howell 
Jonathan Howell 
John Howell 
Luke Howell 
Michael Howell 
Thomas Howell 
Waller Howell 
William Howell 
Daniel Howland 
Joseph Howman 
Benjamin Hoyde 
Dolphin Hubbard 
Jacob Hubbard 
James Hubbard 
Joel Hubbard 
Moses Hubbard 
William Hubbard 
Abel Hubbell 
William Huddle 
John Hudman 
Fawrons Hudson 
John Hudson 
Phineas Hudson 



John Huet 
Conrad Huffman 
Stephen Huggand 
John Huggins 
Abraham Hughes 
Felix Hughes 
Greenberry Hughes 
Greenord Hughes 
Jesse Hughes 
John Hughes 
Peter Hughes 
Thomas Hughes 
Pierre Hujuon 
Richard Humphrey 
Clement Humphries 
W. W. Humphries 
Ephraim Hunn 
Cephas Hunt 
John Hunt (2) 
Robert Hunt 
Alexander Hunter 
Ezekiel Hunter 
George Hunter 
Robert Hunter 
Turtle Hunter 
Rechariah Hunter 
Elisha Huntington 
Joseph Harand 
Benjamin Hurd 
Joseph Hurd 
Simon Hurd 
Asa Hurlbut 
George Husband 
John Husband 
Negro Huson 
Charles Huss 
Isaac Huss 
Jesse Hussey 
James Huston 
Zechariah Hutchins 
Esau Hutchinson 
John Hutchison 
Abraham S m i t h 

Hyde 
Vincent Hyer 

I 

Joseph Ignacis 
Ivede Sousis IIH- 

umbe 
Benjamin Indecot 
Isaac Indegon 



Appendix 



469 



John Ingersall 
Henry IngersoU (2) 
John Ingraham 
Joseph Ingraham 
Joshua Ingraham 
Philip Ignissita 
Joseph Irasetto 
David Ireland 
James Ireland 
Joseph Ireland 
Michael Irvin 
George Irwin 
Michael Irwin 
Isaac Isaacs 
George Ismay 
Gospar Israel 
James Ivans 
John Ivington 
Francis D Izoguirre 



Michael Jacen 
Black Jack 
John Jack (2) 
John Jacks (2) 
Frederick Jacks (2) 
George Jacks (2) 
Henry Jacks 
John Jacks 
John Jackson 
James Jackson 
Josiah Jackson 
Nathaniel Jackson 
Peter Jackson 
Robert Jackson 
Jean Jacobs 
Bella Jacobs 
Joseph Jacobs 
Wilson Jacobs 
Andrew Jacobus 
Guitman Jacques 
Guitner Jacques 
Lewis Jacques 
Peter Jadan 
John Jaikes 
Benjamin James 
John James (2) 
Ryan James 
William James 
Daniel Jamison 
Josiah Janes 



Jean Jardin 
Francis Jarnan 
Edward Jaryis 
Petuna Jarvis 
Negro Jask 
John Jassey 
Francis Jatiel 
Clement Jean 
Joseph Jean 
William Jean 
Benjamin Jeanesary 
Roswell Jeffers 
Samuel Jeffers 
James Jeffrey 
John Jeffries 
Joseph Jeffries 
Philip Jeffries 
George Jemrey 
Pierre Jengoux 
David Jenkin 
Enoch Jenkins 
George Jenkins 
Solomon Jenkins 
George Jenney 
John Jenney 
Langdon Jenney 
Langhorn Jenney 
Nathaniel Jennings 
Thomas Jennings 
William Jennings 
John Jenny 
Langhorn Jenny 
Frances Jerun 
Abel Jesbank 
Oliver Jethsam 
Germain Jeune 
Silas Jiles 
Nathan Jinks 
Moses Jinney 
Verd Joamra 
Manuel Joaquire 
Robert job 

• Joe 

Thomas Joel 
Elias Johnson (2) 
Francis Johnson 
George Johnson 
James Johnson (3) 
John Johnson (3) 
Joseph Johnson 
• Major Johnson 



Samuel Johnson 
Stephen Johnson 
William Johnson 

(8) 
Ebenezer Johnston 
Edward Johnston 
George Johnston 
John Johnston 

(2) 
Joseph Johnston 
Major Johnston 
Michael Johnston 
Miller Johnston 
Paul Johnston 
Peter Johnston 
Robert Johnston (3) 
Samuel Johnston 
Simon Johnston 
Stephen Johnston 
William Johnston 

(8) 
William B. John- 
ston 
James Johnstone 
John Joie 
Thomas Joil 
Adam Jolt 

Joan 

Benjamin Jonas 
Abraham Jones 
Alexander Jones 
Benjamin Jones (3) 
Beal Jones 
Clayton Jones 
Darl Jones 
Edward Jones (2) 
James Jones 
Jib Jones 
John Jones (7) 
Thomas Jones (2) 
Richard Jones (2) 
Samuel Jones (3) 
William Jones (10) 
Jean Jordan 
John Jordan 
Philip Jordan 
Nicholas Jordon 

(2) 
Anthony Joseph 
Antonio Joseph 
Emanuel Joseph 



470 American Prisoners of the Revolution 



Thomas Joseph 
William Joslitt 
Antonio Jouest 
Thomas Joulet 
Jean Jourdana 
Mousa Jousegh 
Jean Jowe 
Thomas Jowe 
Curtis Joy 
Josiah Joy 
Peter Joy (2) 
Samuel Joy 
Samuel Joyce 
Conrad Joycelin 
Randon Jucba 
Manuel Joseph Ju- 

cerria 
Peter Julian 
Henry Junas 
Henry Junus (2) 
Jacques Jurdant 
George Juster 
Samuel Justice 
Simeon Justive 
George Justus 
Philip Justus 

K 
Mark Kadoody 
John Kain 
Lewis Kale 
Barney Kane 
Edward Kane 
John Kane 
Patrick Kane 
Thomas Kane 
Sprague Kean 
Thomas Kean 
Nathaniel Keard 
William Keary 
Tuson Keath 
Daniel Keaton 
Samuel Kelbey 
Samuel Kelby 
John Keller 
Abner Kelley 
John Kelley (5) 
Michael Kelley (2) 
Oliver Kelley 
Patrick Kelley 
Samuel Kelley 



William Kelley 
Roy Kellrey 
Abner Kelly (2) 
Hugh Kelly 
James Kelly 
John Kelly 
Roger Kelly 
Seth Kelly 
Timothy Kelly 
Nehemiah Kelivan 
Olgas Kilter 
William Kemplin 
Simon Kenim 
Charles Kenneday 
James Kenneday 
Jonathan Kenneday 
Nathaniel Kenne- 
day 
Robert Kenneday 

(2) 
Thomas Kenneday 
William Kenneday 

(2) 
David Kennedy 
James Kennedy 
John Kenney (2) 
William Kensej^ 
Elisha Kenyon 
Joson Ker 
John Kerril 
William Kersey (2) 
Edward Ketcham 
Samuel Ketcham 
William Keyborn 
Anthony Keys 
John Keys 
Michael Keys 
Jean Kiblano 
James Kickson 
George Kidd 
John Kidd 
James Kidney 
Manuel Kidtona 
Thomas Kilbourne 
John Kilby 
Lewis Kildare 
John Kilfundy 
Samuel Killen 
William Killen- 

house 
Samuel Killer 



Charles Killis 
Gustavus Killman 
Daniel Kilray 
John Kilts 
Nathaniel Kimber- 

ell 
Charles King 
Gilbert King 
Jonathan King 
John King (4) 
Joseph King (4) 
Michael King 
Richard King 
William King 
Nathaniel Kings- 

bury 
William Kingsley 
Samuel Kinney 
Josiah Kinsland 
Benjamin Kinsman 
Charles Kirby 
John Kirk 
William Kirk 
Jacob Kisler 
Edward Kitchen 
John Kitler 
Ebenezer Knapp 
James Knapp 
Benjamin Knight 

(2) 
Job Knight 
Reuben Knight 
Thomas Knight (2) 
James Knowles (2) 
Nathaniel Knowles 
James Knowls 
Edward Knowlton 
William Knowlton 
Jeremiah Knox (2) 
John Knox 
Ezekiel Kuthoopen 
Louis Kyer 

L 

Basil Laban 
Pierre Labon 
Francois Labone 
Deman Labordas 
Fortne Laborde 
Frederick Laborde 
Anton Laca 



Appendix 



471 



Michael La Casa- 

wyne 
John Lack 
Christopher Lacon 
Oliver Lacope 
Giiiiliam La Coque 
Anthony Lafart 
Dennis Lafferty 
Pierre La Fille 
Anthony Lagarvet 
Jeff Laggolf 
Samuel Laighton 
Thomas Laigue 
Peter Lain 
Christopher Laird 

(3) 
John Laird (2) 
Simon Lake ^^-- 
Thomas Lake y' 
Nathan Lakeman 
Thomas Laley 
Samson Lalley 
John Lalour 
David Lamb 
William Lamb 
Pierre Lambert 
Richard Lambert 

(2) 
Cayelland Lambra 
Thomas Lambuda 
Evena Lame 
Thomas Lame 
Jean Lameari 
Michael Lameova 
Alexander Lamere 

(2) 
Roqtie Lamie 
Henry Land 
Stephen Landart 
George Landon 
Peter Landon 
William Lane 
John Langdon 
Jonathan Langer 
Darius Langford 
William Langford 
John Langler 
Obadiah Langley 
Thomas Langley 

(2) 
James Langlord 



Joseph Langola 
Andrew LangoUe 
Thomas Langstaff 
Franes Langum 
Francois Lan Hu- 

bere 
Samuel Lanman 
Nicholas Lanmand 
William Lanvath 
David Lapham 
Bundirk Laplaine 
Joseph La Plan 
James Lapthorn 
Pierre Laquise 
Francis Larada 
Matthew La Raison 
Charles Larbys 
^ Thom.as Larkin -i^ 
James Larkins "^ 
Gillian Laroache 
Bundirk Larplairne 
Pierre Larquan 
Benjamin Larrick 
Lewis Larsolan 
Guillemot Lascope 
Julian Lascope 
Joseph Laselieve 
John Lasherty 
William Lasken 
Jachery Lasoca 
David Lassan 
Michael Lassly 
Pierre Lastio 
David Latham 
Edward Latham 
James Latham 
Thomas Latham 
Elisha Lathrop 
John Lathrop 
Hezekiah Lathrop 
Solomon Lathrop 
James Latover 
Lorenzo Lattain 
Peter Lattimer 
Thomas Lattimer 
William Lattimer 
William Lattimore 
Frederick Lasker 
William Lathmore 
Samuel Laura 
John Laureny 



Homer Laury 
Michael Lased 
Daniel Lavet 
Pierre Lavigne 
Michael Lavona 
Ezekiel Law (2) 
John Law 
Richard Law 
Thomas Law 
Michael Lawbridge 
Thomas Lawrancc 
Antonio Lawrence 
Isaac Lawrence 
James Lawrence 
John Lawrence (2) 
Joseph Lavv^rence 
Michael Lawrence 
Robert Lawrence 
Samuel Lawrence 

(3) 
Thomas Lawrence 
William Lawrence 

(2) 
John Lawrie 
Andrew Lawson 
Joseph Lawson 
Joseph Lawton 
Edward La}^ 
Lenolen Layfield 
William Layne 
John Layons 
Colsie Layton 
Jessie Layton 
Anthony Layzar 
Ezekiel Leach 
Thomas Leach (3) 
William Leach 
William Leachs 
John Leafeat 
Cornelius Leary 
John Leasear 
John Leatherby 
Louis Leblanc 
Philip Le Caq 
William Le Cose 
Baptist Le Cour 
Benjamin Lecraft 
Joseph Lecree 
Aaron Lee 
Adam Lee 
David Lee 



472 American Prisoners of the RevoIvUtion 



Henry Lee 
James Lee 
John Lee 
Josiah Lee 
Peter Lee 
Richard Lee (3) 
Stephen Lee 
Thomas Lee (3) 
James Leech 
John Leech (2) 
George Leechman 
Jack Leeme 
Joseph Leera 
Jean Lefant 

Le Fargue 

Michael Lefen 
Samuel Le Fever 
Nathaniel Le Fe- 

vere 
Alexander Le Fon- 

gue 
Jean Le Ford 
Hezekiah Legrange 
Thomas Legrange 
Joseph Legro 
Samuel Legro 
'George Lehman 
Gerge Lehman 
George Leish 
Jacob Lelande 
Jeremiah Leman 
John Lemee 
Rothe Lemee 
Abraham Lemon 
Peter Lemonas 
Pierre Lemons 
John Lemont 
Powell Lemosk 
John Lemot 
James Lenard 
Joseph Lenard 
John Lenham 
Tuft Lenock 
Joseph Lenoze 
John Leonard 
Simon Leonard 
Louis Le Pach 
Joshua Le Poore 
Pierre Le Port 
Francis Lepord 
Pierre Lepord 



Pierre Lerandier 
Jean Le Rean 
Joseph P e c c a n t i 

Lescimia 
John Lessington 
John Lessell 
Christian Lester 
Henry Lester 
Lion Lesteren 
Ezekiel Letts (2) 
James Leuard 
Anthony Levanden 
Thomas Leverett 
John Leversey 
Joseph Levett 
Nathaniel Levi 
Bineva Levzie 
Jean Baptiste Le- 

yuac 
Nicholas L'Herox 
Pierre Liar 
John Lidman 
George Lichmond 
Charles Liekerada 
Charles Liekeradan 
Louis Light 
John Lightwell 
Homer Ligond 
Joseph Lilihorn 
Jonathan L i 1 1 a- 

bridge 
Joseph Lillehorn 
Thomas L i 1 1 i a- 

bridge 
Armistead LiHie 
John Lining 
John Limberick 
Christopher L i m- 

bourne (2) 
Lewis Lincoln 
Samuel Lindsay 
James Lindsey 
Matthew Lindsley 
William Lindsley 
Lamb Lines 
Charles Linn 
Lewis Linot 
Richard Linthorn 
Nicholas Linva 
Samuel Linzey 
William Linzey 



Jesse Lipp 
Henry Lisby 
Francis Little 
George Little 
John Little (3) 
Philip Little 
Thomas Little 
Thomas Littlejohn 
William Littleton 
Thomas Livet 
Licomi Lizarn 
James Lloyd 
Simon Lloyd 
William Lloyd 
Lones Lochare 
John Logan 
Patrick Logard 
Eve Logoff 
Samuel Lombard 
John London 
Richard London 
Adam Lone 
Christian Long 
Enoch Long 
Jeremiah Long 
William Long 
Martin Longue 
Emanuel Loper 
Joseph Lopez 
Daniel Loran 
John Lorand 
Nathaniel Lord 
William Loreman 
Francis Loring 
John Lort 
Thomas Lorton 
Jean Lossett 
William Lott 
David Louis 
John Love (2) 
Stephen Love 
Thomas Love 
John Loveberry 
William Loverin 
James Lovett 
Thomas Lovett (2) 
James Low 
William Low 
John Lowe 
Abner Lowell (2) 
Israel Lowell 



Appendix 



473 



Jonathan Lowell 
John Lowering 
Jacob Lowerre 
Robert Lowerre (2) 
Robert Lowerry 
John Lowery 
Philip Lowett 
John Lowring 
Pierre Lozalle 
Jacques Lubard 
James Lucas 
Lucian Lucas 
Jean Lucie 
William Lucker 
William L u c k e y 

(2) 
W. Ludds 
Samuel Luder 
David Ludwith 
Peter Lumbard 
Francois Lumbrick 
Joseph Lunt (3) 
Skipper Lunt 
Philip Lute 
Nehemiah Luther 
Reuben Luther 
Benjamin Luyster 
Augustin Luzard 
Alexander Lyelar 
Charles Lyle 
Witsby Linbick 
Jean Lynton 
Peter Lyon 
Samuel Lyon 
Archibald Lyons 
Daniel Lyons 
Ephraim Lyons 
Ezekiel Lyons 
Jonathan Lyons 
Samuel Lyons 

M 
Jean Franco Mabu- 

gera 
John Macay 
Nicholas McCant 
John Mace 
Anthony Macguire 
Pierre Marker 
William Macgneol 
Romulus Mackroy 



John Madding (2) 
Peter Madding 
Peter Maggot 
John Maginon 
Stringe Mahlan 
Peter Mahrin 
Jean Maikser 
William Main 
Joseph Mainwright 
Simon Majo 
Pierre Malaque 
John Maleon 
Lewis Malcom 
Maurice Malcom 
John Male 
William Malen 
Francis Maler 
Matthew Malkellan 
Enoch Mall 
Daniel Malleby 
Thomas Malleby 
Frederick Malle- 

neux 
John Mallet 
Daniel Mallory 
John Malone 
Paul Malory 
Thomas Makend 
Nathaniel Mamford 

• Mamney 

Peter Manaford 
Josiah Manars 
John Manchester 
Silas Manchester 
Thaddeus Manches- 
ter 
Edward Mand 
Edward Manda 
Jonathan Mandevi- 

neur 
Sylvester Manein 
Pierre Maneit 
Etien Manett 
George Manett 
George Mangoose 
John Manhee 
William Manilla 
Anthonv Mankan 
Jacob Manlore 
William Manlove 
John Manly 



Jaines Mann 
John Manor 
Isaac Mans 
Benjamin Mans- 
field 
Hemas Mansfield 
William Mansfield 
Joseph Mantsea 
Jonathan Maples 
Jean Mapson 
Auree Maraud 

Marbinnea 

Mary Marblyn 
Etom Marcais 
James Marcey 
Jean Margabta 
Jean Marguie 
Timothy Mariarty 
John Mariner (2) 
Hercules Mariner 

(2) 
Elias Markham 
Thomas Marie 
James Marley 
Jean Marlgan 
Francis Marmilla 
David Marney 
James Marriott 
Zachary Marrall 
William Marran 
James Marriott 
Alexander Marse 
James Marsh 
Benjamin Marshall 
James Marshall 
John Marshall 
Joseph Marshall 
Samuel Marshall 
Thomas Marshall 
Timothy Marson 
Thomas Marston 
Adam Martellus 
Antonio Marti 
Ananias Martin 
Damon Martin 
Daniel Martin 
Daniel F. Martin 
Emanuel Martin 
Embey Martin 
Francis Martin 
George Martin 



474 American Prisoners of the Revolution 



Gilow Martin 
Jacob Martin 
James Martin 
Jesse Martin 
John Martin (4) 
Joseph Martin (3) 
Lewis Martin 
Martin Martin 
Michael Martin 
Peter Martin 
Philip Martin 
Samuel Martin (2) 
Simon Martin 
Thomas Martin (2) 
William Martin (3) 
Jose Martine (2) 
TTiomas Martine 
Pierre Martinett 
Philip Marting 
Martin Martins 
Oliver Marton 
John Marton 
Baptist Marvellon 
Anthony Marwin 
Andrew Masar 
Thomas Mash 
Matthew Maskillon 
Thomas Masley 
Jean Maso 
Augustus Mason 
Francis Mason 
Gerard B. Mason 
Halbert Mason 
James Mason 
Louis Mason 
Charles Massaa 
James Massey 
Jam.es Maston 
Pierre Mathamice 
James Mathes 
Jeffrey Mathews 
John Mathews 
Joseph Mathews 

(2) 
Josiah Mathews 
Richard Mathews 

(2) 
Robert Mathews 
Thomas Mathews 
William Mathews 

(2) 



Thomas Mathew- 

son 
Robert Mathias 
Joseph Matre 
James Matson 
William Matterga 
George Matthews 
Joseph Matthews 
Josiah Matthews 
Richard Matthias 
Thomas Maun 
James Maurice 
John Mawdole 
Patrick Maxfield 
Daniel Maxwell 
David Maxwell 
George Maxwell 
James Maxwell (6) 
John Maxwell (3) 
William Maxwell 

(5) 
George May 
John Maye (3) 
John Maygehan 
Pierre Maywer (3) 
Parick McAllister 
Charles McArthur 
John McArthur 
Peter McCalpan 
Nathaniel McCamp- 

sey 
Williami McCanery 
Edward McCann 
Daniel McCape (2) 
Andrew McCarty 
Cornelius McCarty 
William McCarty 
John M. McCash 
Francis McClain 
James McClanagan 
Daniel McClary 
Henry McCleaf 
Patrick McClemens 
John McClesh 
Patrick McCloskey 
Murphy McCloud 
Peter McCloud 
James McClure 
William McClure 
Johnston McCollis- 
ter 



James McComb 
Paul McCome 
James McConnell 
Hugh McCormac 
James McCormick 
William McCowan 
Donald McCoy 
George McCoy 
Peter McCoy 
Samuel McCoy 
John McCrady 
Gilbert McCray 
John McCray 
Roderick McCrea 
Patrick McCulla 
Francis McCullam 
William McCullock 
Daniel McCullough 
William McCullough 
Patrick McCullum 
Caleb McCully 
Archibald McCunn 
James McDaniel 

(3) 
John McDaniel 
John McDavid 
William M c D e r - 

mott 
Alexander McDon- 
ald 
Donald McDonald 
John McDonald 
Petre McDonald 
W^illiam McDonald 

(2) 
Patrick M c D o n- 

ough (2) 
William McDougall 
Ebenezer McEntire 
John McEvan 
John McFaggins 
James McFall 
Bradford McFarlan 
Daniel McFarland 
William McFarland 

(2) 
Bradford McFar- 

ling 
Bushford M c F a r- 

ling 
John McFamon 



Appendix 



475 



William McGandv 
John McGee (2) 
Andrew McGelpin 

(3) 
James McGeer 
John McGey (3) 
Arthur McGill 
James McGill 
Henry McGinness 
James McGinniss 
John McGoggin 
Robert McGonne- 

gray 
James McGowan 
John McGoy 
Barnaby McHenry 
Duncan Mclntire 
Patrick McKay 
Matthew McKel- 

lum 
Barnaby McKenry 
John McKensie 
Thomas McKeon 
Patrick McKey 
James McKinney 

(3) 
John McKinsey 
George McKinsIe 
William McKinsley 
Benjamin McLach- 

lan 
Edward McLain 
Lewis McLain 
Philip McLaughlin 
Daniel McLayne 
James McMichael 
Philip McMonough 
Francis McName 
John McNauch 
Archibald McNeal 
John McNeal 
James McNeil 
William McNeil 
John McNish 
Molcolm McPher- 

man 
William McQueen 
Charles McQuillian 
Samuel McWaters 
Samuel Mecury 
John Medaff 



John Mede 
Joshua Medisabel 
Joseph Meack 
John Meak 
Usell Meechen 
Abraham Meek 
Joseph Meek 
Timothy Meek 
John Mego 
Springale Meins 
William Melch 
Joseph Mellins 
Harvey Mellville 
William Melone 
Adam Meltward 
George Melvin 
Lewis Meneal 
John Menelick 
Jean Baptist Menlich 
William Mellwood 
John Mercaten 
James Mercer 
Robert Mercer (2) 
Jean Merchant (2) 
John Merchant 
Peter Merchant 
William Merchant 
John Merchaud 
Sylvester Mercy 
Bistin Mereff 
Jean Meritwell 
Francis Merlin 
John Merlin 
Augustus Merrick 
John Merrick 
Joseph Merrick 
Samuel Merrick 
Nimrod Merrill 
John Merritt 
John Merry 
John Mersean 
Clifton Merser 
John Mersey 
Abner Mersick 
William Messdone 
Thomas Messell 
George Messing- 

burg 
George Messmong 
Thomas Metsard 
Job Meyrick 



Roger Mickey 
Thomas Migill 
James Migley 
Jean Milcher 
John Miles (2) 
Segur Miles 
Thomas Miles 
Timothy Miles 
George Mildred 
James Millbown 
Robert Millburn 
John Millen 
Christopher Miller 
David Miller 
Ebenezer Miller 
Elijah Miller (2) 
George Miller 
Jacob Miller 
John Miller (3) 
John James Miller 
Jonathan Miller 
Michael Miller 
Peter Miller 
Samuel Miller (2) 
William Miller (2) 
Maurice Millet 
Thomas Millet 
Francis Mills 
John Mills (2) 
William Mills 
Dirk Miners 
John Mink 
Renard Mink 
Lawrence M i n n i 

harm 
Arnold Minow 
Kiele Mires 
Koel Mires 
Anthony Mitchell 
Benjamin Mitchell 
James Mitchell 
Jean Mitchell 
John Mitchell (2) 
Joseph Mitchell 
David P. Mite 
Elijah Mix 
Joseph Mix 
Paul Mix 
James Moet 
William Moffat 
David Moffet 



476 American Prisoners of the Revoi^ution 



Emanuel Moguera 
Peter Moizan 
Joseph Molisan 
Alexander Molla 
Mark Mollian 
Bthkin Mollinas 



Thomas Moore (6) 
Wardman Moore 
William Moore (6) 
Charles Moosey 
John Mooton 
Acri Morana 



Bartholomew Mol- John Morant 



ling 

Daniel Mollond 
James Molloy 
John Molny 
Oilman Molose 
Enoch Molton 
George Molton 
Isaac Money 
Perry Mongender 
William Monrass 
James Monro 
Abraham Monroe 
John Monroe 
Thomas Monroe 
David Montague 
Norman Montague 
William Montague 



Mo- 



Adam Morare 
John Baptist 

raw 
W. Morce 
Gilmot Morea 
Toby Morean 
Joseph Morehand 
Abel Morehouse 

(3) 
Grosseo Moreo 
Jonathan Morey 
Lewis Morey 
Louis Morey 
Abel Morgan 
Henry Morgan 
John Morgan (3) 
Joseph Morgan 
Matthew Morgan 



Lewis Montaire 

Francis M o n t e s- John Moride 

dague Edward Moritz 

George Montgom- William Morein 

ery (2) James Morley 

James Montgomeryjohn Morrell 



(3) 
John Montgomery 

(3) 
James Moody 
Silas Moody 
Hugh Mooney 
Abraham 

(3) 
Adam Moore 
Frederick Moore 
Henry Moore 
Tsrael Moore 
James Moore 
John Moore (2) 
Joseph Moore 
Nathaniel Moore 
Patrick Moore 
Ralph Moore 
Richard Moore 
Samuel Moore 
Stephen Moore 



Osborne Morrell 
Robert Morrell (3) 
Francis Morrice 
Andrew Morris (2) 
Daniel Morris 
David Morris 
Moore Easins Morris 
Edward Morris 
Foster Morris 
Gouverneur Morris 
John Morris (3) 
Matthew Morris 
Philip Morris 
Robert Morris 
W. Morris 
William Morris 
Hugh Morrisin 
James Morrison 
Murdock Morrison 
Norman Morrison 
Samuel Morrison 



Richard Morse 
Sheren Morselan- 

der 
William Morse- 

lander 
Benjamin Morti- 
mer 
Robert Mortimer 

(3) 
Abner Morton (2) 
George Morton • 
James Morton 
Philip Morton (2) 
Robert Morton 
Samuel Morton 
Philip Mortong 
Simon Morzin 
Negro Moses 
Daniel Mosiah 
Sharon Moslander 
William Moslander 
John Moss (2) 
Alexander Motley 
William Motley 
Elkinar Mothe 
Enoch Motion 
Benjamin Motte 
Francis Moucan 
Jean Moucan 
George Moulton 
John Moulton 
Richard Mount 
John Muanbet 
Hezekiah Muck 
Jacob Muckleroy 
Philip Muckleroy 

(3) 
Jacob Mullen 
Eleme Mullent 
Jean Muller 
Leonard Muller 
Robert Muller 
Abraham Mullet 
Jonathan MuUin 
Leonard Mullin 
Jonathan Mullin 
Robert Mullin 
William Mullin 
Edward M u 1 1 o y 

(3). 
Francis Mulloy 



Appendix 



477 



Richard Mumford 
Timothy Mumford 
Michael Mungen 
John Mungon 
John Munro 
Henry Munrow 
Royal Munrow 
Thomas M u n t h- 

bowk 
Hosea Munul 
James Murdock (2) 
John Murdock 
Peter Muriow 
Daniel Murphy (2) 
John Murphy 
Nicholas Murphy 
Patrick Murphy 
Thomas Murphy 

(2) 
Bryan Murray 
Charles Murray 
Daniel Murray (2) 
John Murray (4) 
Silas Murray 
Thomas Murray 
William Murray 
Antonio Murria (2) 
David Murrow 
John Murrow 
Samuel Murrow 
Adam Murtilus 
Richard Murus 
Antonio Musqui 
Eb^nezer Mutter 
Jean Myatt 
Adam Myers (2) 
George Myles 
Henry Myres 

N 
Ebenezer Nabb 
Dippen Nack 
Archibald Nailer 
Thomas Nandiva 
Hosea Nandus 
Richard Nash 
Jean Natalt 
Benjamin Nathan 
Joseph Nathan 
John Nathey (2) 
Nathaniel Naval 
Simon Navane 



Francis Navas 
Pierre Navey 
David Neal (2) 
George Neal 
William Nealson 
Ebenezer Neating 
Gideon Necar 
Joseph Negbel 
Michael Nejgg 
John Negis 
James Neglee 
Frank Negroe 
James Negroe 
James Negus 
Thomas Negus 
Abraham Neilson 
Alexander Neilson 
James Neilson 
Joseph Neilson 
Alexander Nelson 
Andrew Nelson 
John Nelson (2) 
Joseph Nelson 
Thomas Nelson (2) 
William Nelson 
Thomas Nesbitt 
Bartholomew Nes- 

tora 
Francis Neville 
Jean Neville 
Michael Neville 
Ebenezer Newall 
Sucreason Newall 
William Neward 
Elisha Newbury 
Andrew Newcomb 
John Newcomb 
Andrew Newell 
Amos Newell 
Joseph Newell 
Nathaniel Newell 
Robert Newell 
Nicholas Newgal 
Joseph Newhall 
Joseph Newille 
Francis Newman 
Moses Newman 
Nathaniel Newman 
Samuel Newman 
Thomas Newman 

(4) 
Adam Newton (2) 



John Newton 
William Newton 
Adam Newtown 
William Newtown 
John Niester 
James Nigley 
Richard Nich 
Thomas Nicher 
Martin Nichets 
Richard Nicholas 
Allen Nichols 
George Nichols 
James Nichols 
John Nichols 
Richard Nichols 
Alexander Nichol- 
son 
George Nicholson 
Samuel Nicholson 
Thomas Nicholson 
George Nicks 
Gideon Nigh 
^Villiam Nightin- 
gale 
James Nigley 
Frank Niles 
Robert Nixon 
Jean Noblat 
Arnox Noble 
James Noble 
John Mary Noblet 
John Nocker 
William Noel 
William Nore 
John Norfleet 
Proper Norgand 
John Norie 
James Norman 
John Norman 
Joseph Norman 
Peter Norman 
Joseph Normay 
Henry Norris 
Anfield North 
Daniel Northron 
Harris Northrup 
William Northrup 
Elijah Norton 
Jacob Norton 
John Norton (3> 
Nicholas Norton 
Peter Norton 



478 American Prisoners of the Revolution 



William Norton 
Jacques Norva (3) 
William Nourse 
Nathaniel Nowell 
Joseph Noyes 
William Nurse 
Pierre Nutern 
David Nutter (3) 
Joseph Nutter 
John Nuttin (3) 
Ebenezer Nutting 
Robert Nyles 



Charles Oakford 
Solomon Oakley 
John Oakman 
Israel Oat 
Joseph Oates 
John Obey (3) 
Cornelius O'Brien 
Edward O'Brien 
John O'Brien 
William O'Bryan 
Daniel Obourne 
Samuel Oderon 
Samuel Odiron 
Pierre Ogee 
John Ogillon 
Richard Ogner 
Patrick O'Hara 
Robert O'Hara 
Patrick O'Harra 
Daniel Olbro 
Ceorge Oldham 
John Oldsmith 
Raymond O'Larra 
Devoe Olaya 
Zebulon Olaya 
Don R. Antonio 

Olive 
Anthony Oliver 
James Oliver (5) 
Zebulon Oliver 
l^benezer Onsware 
Allan Ord 
John Ord 
John Orgall 
Sebastian Orman 
Kdward Ormunde 
William Orr 



John Orrock 
Emanuel Orseat 
Patrick Orsley 
John Osborn 
Joseph Osbourne 
John Oseglass 
Stephen Osena 
John Osgood 
Gabriel Oshire 
Jean Oshire 
Louis Oshire 
John Osman 
Henry Oswald 
Gregorian Othes 
Andre Otine (2) 
Samuel Otis 
Benjamin Otter 
John Oubler 
Charles Ousanon 
Samuel Ousey 
William Ousey 
Jay Outon 
John Outton 
Jonathan Ovans 
Samuel Ovell 
Vincent Overatt 
Samuel Overgorm 
Lewis Owal 
John Owen 
Anthony Owens 
Archibald Owens 
Barnick Owens 
James Owens 
John Owens 
Samuel Owens 

P / 

Jean Packet 
Abel Paddock 
Joseph Paddock 
Silas Paddock 
Daniel Paddock 
Journey Padouan 
B. Pain 
Jacob Painter 
Henry Painter 
John Palicut 
Daniel Palmer 
Elisha Palmer 
Gay Palmer 
George Palmer 



James Palmer 
John Palmer 
Jonas Palmer 
Joshua Palmer 
Lemuel Palmer 
Matthew Palmer 
Moses Palmer 
Philip Palmer 
William Palmer (4) 
Peter Palot 
Moses Palot 
Nicholaa Pamphil- 

lion 
Emea Panier 
Anthony Panks 
Joseph Parde 
Christopher Pard- 

indes 
Jacob Pardley 
John Parish 
George Park 
John Parkard 
Thomas Parkard 
George L. Parke 
Joseph Parkens 
Amos Parker 
Ebenezer Parker 
Edward Parker 
George Parker (3) 
John Parker (4) 
Luther Parker (3) 
Peter Parker 
Samuel Parker (3) 
Thaddeus Parker ^, 
Timothy Parker *=-- 
George Parks 
Richard Parks 
Thomas Parkson 
Joseph Parlot 
Thomas Parnell 
Jean Parol 
Sebastian Parong 
Dominick Parpot 
Gabriel Parrie 
Francis Parshall 
James^ Parsons (3) 
Jeremiah Parsons 
John Parsons 
Joseph Parsons 
Samuel Parsons 
Stephen Parsons 



Appendix 



479 



William Parsons 

James Partridge 
Roman Pascan 
Edmund Paschal 
Leroy Pasehall 
Richard Pass 
William Pass 
Israel Patch 
Joseph Patrick 
David Patridge 
Edward Patterson 
Hance Patterson 
John Patterson (3) 
Peter Patterson 
W. Patterson 
William Patterson 
William Paul 
Pierre Payatt 
James Payne 
Josiah Payne 
Oliver Payne 
Thomas Payne (2) 
William Payne (2) 
William Payton 
John Peacock 
Benjamin Peade 
Benjamin Peal 
Samuel Pealer 
William Peals 
John Pear 
Amos Pearce 
Benjamin Pearce 
John Pearce 
Jonathan Pearce 
Edward Pearsol 
John Pearson 
George Peasood 
Elisha Pease 
Estrant Pease 
Guliel Pechin 
Andrew Peck (2) 
Benjamin Peck 
James Peck 
Joseph Peck (2) 
Simon Peck 
William Peck 
Benjamin Pecke 
Gardner Peckham 
John Peckworth 
Zachary Peddle- 
foot 



Solomon Pedgore 
Edward Pedlock 
Alexander Pees 
John Pees 
Silas Pegget 
Jean Pegit 
John Pelit 
Pierre Pelit 
Samuel Pell 
Sebastian Pelle 
Jacques Peloneuse 

Pelrice 

Gothard Pelrice 
John Pelvert 
Amos Pemberton 

(2) 
Thomas Pemberton 
William Pemberton 
John Pendleton 
Sylvester Pendle- 
ton (2) 

Penfield 

Peter Penoy 
James Penwell 
John Baptist Peo- 

mond 
Alfred Peose 
Michael Pepper 
Thomas Perall 
James Peril 
Charles Perinell 
Peter Perieu 
Charles Perkinell 
Charles Perkmell 
Jabez Perkins 
Jonathan Perkins 
Joseph Perkins 
William Perkins 
Antonio Permanouf 
Peter Perons 
Peter Perora 
Pierre Perout 
John Perry 
Joseph Perry 
Raymond Perry 
Richard Perry 
William Perry (7) 
Manuel Person 
Jabez Pervis 
Jean Peshire 
John Peterkin (2) 
Francis Peters 



John Peters (2) 
Aaron Peterson 
,Hance Peterson 
Joseph Peterson 

(3) 
James Petre 
William Pett 
Daniel Pettis 
Ephraim Pettis 
Nathan Pettis 
Isaac Pettit 
Joseph Antonio Pe- 

zes 
Thomas Philbrook 
John Philip (2) 
Joseph Philip 
Lewis Philip 
Pierre Philip 
John Philips 
Lewin Philips 
Nathan Philips 
Thomas Philips 
Edward Phillips 
John Phillips (2) 
Samuel Phillips 
James Phimmer 
Joseph Phipise 
Nathaniel Phippin 
Thomas Phippin 
Jean Richer 
Juan Picko 
Pierre Pickolet 
Richard Pierce (2) 
vStephen Pierce 
Jeremiah Pierel 
lean Pierre 
Jesse Pierre 
Jucah Pierre 
Joseph Pierson 
Amos Pike 
John Pike 
George Pill 
Joseph Pillion 
Truston Pilsbury 
John Pimelton 
Simeon Pimelton 
James Pine (2) 
Charles Pinkel 
Jonathan Pinkman 
Robert Pinkman 
Augustus Pion 
Henry Pipon 



480 American Prisoners of the Revolution 



Jean Pisung 
Elias Pitchcock 
Sele Pitkms 
John Pitman 
Jonathan Pitman 

Thomas Pitt 
John Pittman 
W. Pitts 
Nathaniel Placho- 

res 
Elton Planet 
Etena Planett 
John Platte 
William Plemate 
Francis Plenty 
John Ploughman 
Thomas Plunkett 
James Plumer 
John Plumstead 
Thomas Plunkett 
Matthew Poble 
Henry Pogan 
Daniel Poges 
Salvador Pogsin 
Michael Poinchet 
Oilman Poirant 
William Poke 
John Poland 
John Pollard 
Peter Pollard 
Jonathas Pollin 
Elham Poloske 
Samuel Poise 
William Poise 
Charles Pond 
Pennell Pond 
Peter Pond 
Culman Poni 
Fancis Ponsard 
Hosea Pontar 
Joseph Pontesty 
Robert Pool 
David Poole 
Hosea Poole 
John Poole 
Richard Poole 
Robert Poole 
Morris Poor 
Thomas Poor 
Henry Poore 



Morris Poore 
William Poore 
Alexander Pope 
John Pope 
Etienne Porlacu 
Nathaniel Porson 
Anthony Port 
Charles Porter (3) 
David Porter (3) 
Edward Porter 
Frederick Porter 
Howard Porter 
John Porter (2) 
Thomas Porter 
William Porter 
Frank Portois 
Seren Poseter 
Jeremiah Post 
Jean Postian 
Edward Posture 
Thomas Posture 
Thomas Poteer 
Abijah Potter 
Charles Potter 
Ephraim Potter 
Rufus Potter 
Mark Pouchett 
Jean Poullain 
Mark B. Poullain 
William Powder 
John Powell 
Thomas Powell 
William Powder 
Patrick Power 
Richard Powers 
Stephen Powers 
Nicholas P r a n d e 

(2) 
Benjamin Prate 
James Prate 
Ebenezer Pratt 
Ezra Pratt (2) 
Andre Preno 
Nathaniel Prentiss 
Robert Prentiss 
Stanton Prentiss 
Andrew Presson 
Isaac Presson 
Benjamin Pretty- 
man 
John Pribble (2) 



Edward Price (2) 
Joseph Price 
Nathaniel Price 
Reason Price (2) 
Richard Price 
Samuel Price 
William Price 
John Prichard 
Jonathan Pride 
William Priel 
Henry Primm 
Edward Primus 
Charles Prince 
Negro Prince 
Nicholas Priston 
James Proby 
James Proctor 
Joseph Proctor 
Samuel Proctor 
Claud Provost 
Paul Provost 
John Proud (2) 
Joseph Proud 
Joseph Prought 
Lewis de Pue 
James Pullet 
Pierre Punce 
Peter Purlett 
William Purnell 
Edward Pursell 
Abraham Putnam 
Creece Putnam 



James Quality (3) 
Joseph Quality 
Josiah Quality 
Samuel Quamer 
Thomas Quand 
Louis Quelgrise 
Duncan Quigg (2> 
James Quinch 
Samuel Quinn 
Charles Quiot 
Samuel Quomer 

R 
Thomas Race 
Antonio Rackalong 
Patrick Rafferty 
Daniel Raiden 



Appendix 



481 



Michael Raingul 
Richard Rainham 
Tliomas Rainiot 
George Rambert 
Peter Ramlies 
Joseph Ramsdale 
Abner Ramsden 
Jean C. Ran 
Benjamin Randall 
Charles Randall 
Edward Randall 
Jesse Randall 
Joseph Randall 
Nathaniel Randall 

(2) 

Thomas Randall 
William Randall 

(2) 
Dolly Randel 
Paul Randell 
Joseph Randell (2) 
Joses Randell 
George Randell 
Paul Randell 
George Randels 
Nathaniel Randol 
Jean Baptiste Rano 
Benjamin Ranshaw 
James Rant 
Norman Rathbun 
Roger Rathbun 
Peter Rathburn 
Samuel Rathburn 
Rogers Rathburne 
Peter Rattan 
Arthur Rawson 
Francis Rawson 
James Rawson 
Alexander Ray 
John Ray 
Nathaniel Ray 
Nathaniel Raye 
George Raymond 
James Raymond 
William Raymond 
William Raymons 
Jean Raynor 
Benjamin Read 
Oliver Reade 
Jeremiah Reardon 
Lewis Recour 

—31 



John Red 
James Redfield 
Edward Redick 
Benjamin Redman 
Andre Read 
Barnard Reed 
Christian Reed 
Curtis Reed 
Eliphaz Reed 
George Reed 
Jeremiah Reed 
Job Reed 
John Reed (2) 
Jonathan Reed 
Joseph Reed 
Levi Reed 
Thomas Reed (2) 
William Reed (2) 
John Reef 
Nicholas Reen 
Thomas Reeves 
Jacques Refitter 
Julian Regan 
Hugh Reid 
Jacob Reiton 
Jean Remong 
Jean Nosta Renan 
Louis Renand 
John Renean 
Pierre Renear 
Thomas Renee 
Thomas Rennick 
Frederick Reno 
Jean Renovil 
Michael Renow 
Jean Reo 
Barton Repent 
Jean Requal 
Jesse Rester 
Louis Rewof 
Thomas Reynelds 
Elisha Reynolds 
Nathaniel Reynolds 
Richard Reynolds 

(2) 
Thomas Reynolds 
Thomas Reyzick 
Sylvester Rhodes 
Thomas de Ribas 
George Ribble 
Benjamin Rice 



Edward Rice 
James Rice 
John Rice (2) 
Nathaniel Rice 
Noah Rice 
William Rice 
Elisha Rich 
Freeman Rich 
John Rich 
Matthew Rich 
Nathan Rich 
Benjamin Richard 
Diah Richards 
Gilbert Richards 
James Richards 
John Richards 
Oliver Richards 
Pierre Richards 
William Richards 
David Richardson 
John Richardson 
Pierre Richardson 
William Richard- 
son 
Cussing Richman 
Ebenezer Richman 
Benjamin Richmond 
Seth Richmond 
Clement Ricker 
John Rickett 
Nathaniel Rickman 
Lewis Ridden 
Isaac Riddler 
Lewis Rider 
John Riders 
John Ridge 
John Ridgway 
Isaac Ridler 
Amos Ridley 
Thomas Ridley 
David Rieve 
Israel Rieves 
Jacob Right 
James Rigmorse 
Joseph Rigo 
Henry Riker 
R. Riker 
James Riley 
Philip Riley 
Philip Rilly 
Pierre Ringurd 



482 American Prisoners of the Revolution 



John Rion 
Daniel Riordan 
Paul Ripley 
Ramble Ripley 
Thomas Ripley 
Ebenezer Ritch 
John River 
Joseph River 
Paul Rivers 
Thomas Rivers 
John Rivington 
Joseph Roach 
Lawrence Roach 
William Roas 
Thomas Robb 
James Robehaird 
Arthur Robert 
John Robert 
Julian Robert 
Aaron Roberts (2) 
Edward Roberts 
Epaphras Roberts 
James Roberts (2) 
Joseph Roberts 
Moses Roberts (2) 
William Roberts 

(4) 
Charles Robertson 

(2) 
Elisha Robertson 
Esau Robertson 
George Robertson 
James Robertson 

(3) 
Jeremiah Robert- 
son 
John Robertson 

(6) 
Joseph Robertson 
Samuel Robertson 
Thomas Robertson 
Daniel Robins 
Enoch Robins 
James Robins 
William Robins 
Anthony Robinson 
Ebenezer Robinson 
Enoch Robinson 
James Robinson 

(2) 
Jehu Robinson 



John Robinson (3) 
Joseph Robinson 
Mark Robinson 
Nathaniel Robin- 
son 
Thomas Robinson 
William Robinson 
John Rockway 
Daniel Rockwell 
Jabez Rockwell 
Elisha Rockwood 
Anthony Roderick 
Jean Raptist Ro- 
dent 
James Rodgers 
Michael Rodieu 
Francis Rodrigo 
Franco Rogeas 
Robert Roger 
Dudson Rogers 
Ebenezer Rogers 
Emanuel Rogers 
George Rogers (3) 
John Rogers (5) 
Nicholas Rogers 
Paul Rogers 
-^Thomas Rogers 
William Rogers 
John Rogert 
Joseph Roget 
Jean Rogue 
John Francis Rogue 
John Roke 
John Rollin 
Paul Rollins 
Toby Rollins 
Francis Roman 
Petre Romary 
Diego Romeria 
Benjamin Romulus 
Lewis Ronder 
Jack Rone 
Paul Ropeley 
Bartram Ropper 
Gideon Rose (2) 
John Rose (2) 
Philip Rose 
Prosper Rose 
Jean Rosea 
Augustus Roseau 
Guilliam Roseau 



Jean Baptist Rosua 
William Rose 
Andrew Ross 
Archibald Ross 
Daniel Ross (3) 
David Ross 
James Ross 
Malone Ross 
Thomas Ross 
William Ross (3) 
Bostion Roteslar 
John Roth 
Samuel Rothburn 
Benjamin Rothers 
Jean Baptist Rouge 
Jean James Rouge 
Charles Roulong 
Hampton Round 
John Round 
Nathan Round 
Samuel Round 
Andrew Rouse 
Claud Rouse 
Daniel Roush 
Hampton Rowe 
John Rowe 
William Rowe 
George Rowen 
George Rowing 
Patrick Rowland 
John Rowley 
Sliter Rowley 
John Frederick 

Rowlin 
William Rowsery 
James Rowson 
Augustus Royen 
John Royster 
Richard Royster 
Blost Rozea 
Lawrence Rozis 
Peter Ruban 
Ebenezer Rube 
Thomas Rubin 
Eden Ruddock 
Ezekiel Rude 
John Ruffeway 
Lewis Ruffie 
Henry Rumsower 
Joseph Runyan 
Nathaniel Ruper 



Appendix 



483 



John Rupper 
Daniel Ruse 
Daniel Rush 
Edward Russell 
Jacob Russell 
Pierre Russell 
Samuel Russell 
Valentine Russell 
William Russell 
John Rust 
William Rust (2) 
John Ruth (2) 
Pompey Rutley 
Pierre Ryer 
Jacob Ryan 
Frank Ryan 
Michael Ryan 
Peter Ryan 
Thomas Ryan 
Renee Ryon 



Francisco Sablong 
John Sachel 
Jonathan Sachell 
George Sadden 
George Saddler 
John Sadens 
Abraham Sage 
Edward Sailly 
John Saint 
Elena Saldat 
Gilbert Salinstall 
Luther Salisbury 
Michael Sallibie 
John Salmon 
John Salter 
Thomas Salter 
Edward Same 
Pierre Samleigh 
Jacob Sammian 
Stephen Sampson 

(2) 
Charles Sand 
Henry Sanders 
Manuel Sandovah 
Ewing Sands 
Stephen Sands 
Daniel Sanford 
Anthony Santis 
Thomas Sarbett 



Louis Sarde 
Peter Sarfe 
Juan Sassett 
David Sasson 
Jonathan Satchell 
William Saterly 
Johns Sathele 
Joseph Satton 
Edward Sauce 
Augustus Saunders 
Daniel Saunders 
John Saunders 
Allen Savage 
Bellas Savage 
Nathaniel Savage 

(2) 
Joseph Savot 
Benjamin Sawyer 
Daniel Sawyer 
Ephraim Sawyer 

(3) 
James Sawyer 
Jeremiah Sawyer 
John Sawyer 
Peter Sawyer 
Thomas Sawyer 
William Sawyer 
Cuffy Sayers 
Joseph Sayers 
Henry Scees 
Peter Schafer 
Melchior Scheldor- 

ope 
Peter Schwoob 
Julian Scope 
Christopher Scott 
George Scott 
James Scott 
John Scott (4) 
Robert Scott 
Thomas Scott 
William Scott 
Daniel Scovell 
David Scudder 
Nutchell Scull 
Lamb Seabury 
Samuel Seabury 
Adam Seager 
George Seager 
Thomas Sealey (2) 
Robert Scares 



George Seaton 
Antonio Sebasta 
Benjamin Secraft 
Thomas Seeley 
Jean Baotist Sego 
Elias Seldon 
Edward Sellers 
Anthony Selwind 
William Semell 
John Senior 
Adam Sentelume 
Abraham Sentilier 
Leonard Sepolo 
Emanuel Seerus 
Anthony Serais 
James Seramo 
John Serant 
Francis Seratte 
Francis Sergeant 
Thomas Sergeant 
Joel Series 
Sebastian Serrea 
William Service 
Jonathan Setchell 
Otis Sevethith 
Francis Seyeant 
Solomon Shad 
Matthew Shappo 
Elisha Share 
John Sharke 
Philip Sharp 
Peter Sharpe 
Philip Sharper 
John Sharpley 
Joseph Sharpley 
Joseph Shatille 
Joseph Shatillier 
Archibald Shaver 
Jacob Shaver 
Abner Shaw 
Daniel Shaw . 
James Shaw 
Jeremiah Shaw 
Joseph Shaw 
Samuel Shaw 
Thomas Shaw (3) 
William Shaw 
Patrick Shea 
Jean Shean 
Brittle Sheans 
Gideon Shearman 



484 American Prisoners of the Revolution 



Henry Shearman 
Stephen Shearman 
Philip Shebzain 
John Sheffield 
William Sheilds 
Nicholas Sheilow 
Jeremiah Shell 
Benjamin Shelton 
James Shepherd 
John Shepherd (4) 
Robert Shepherd 

Thomas Sherburn 

William Sherburne 

Gilbert Sherer 

James Sheridan 

John Sheridan 

John Sherman 

Samuel Sherman 
(3) 

Andrew Sherns 

Andrew Sherre 

George Shetline 

John Shewin 

Jacob Shibley 

George Shiffen 

Louis de Shille 

Jack Shilling 

Jacob Shindle 

Frederick Shiner 
(2) 

John Shirkley 

Joseph Shoakley 
(2) 

Edward Shoema- 
ker 

James Shoemaker 

Samuel Shokley 

John Short (3) 

Joseph Short 

Thomas Short 

Enoch Shout 

Christopher Shov- 
ing 

Jacob Shroak 

James Shuckley 

Thomas Shuman 

Francis Shun 

Enoch Shulte 

John Shute 

Richard Sickes 



Francis Silver 
James Simes 
Chapman Simmons 
David Simmons 
Hilldoves Simmons 
John Simmons 
Joshua Simms 
James Simon 
William Simon 
Francis Simonds 
Boswell Simons 
Champion Simons 
Elijah Simons 
Francis Simons 
Joseph Simons 
Nathaniel Simons 
Nero Simons 
Samuel Simons 
William Simpkins 
Benjamin Simpson 
Charles Simpson 
Thomas Simpson 
John Sindee 
John Singer 
John Sitchell 
John Skay 
John Skelton 
Samuel Skinner (2) 
Richard Skinner 
Peter Skull (2) 
David Slac 
Benjamin Slade 
Thomas Slager 
John Slane 
Jean Louis Slarick 
Measer Slater 
Matthew Slaughter 
John Slee 
Thomas Slewman 
Samuel Slide 
Joseph Slight 
Josiah Slikes 
Chrfstopher Sloa- 

kum 
Edward Sloan 
Timothy Sloan 
Andrew Sloeman 
Thomas Slough 
Ebenezer Slow 
Isaac Slowell 
William Slown 



Henry Sluddard 
Samuel Slyde 
Richard Slykes 
William Smack 
Joseph Small 
Robert Smallpiece 
John Smallwood 

(2) 
Peter Smart 
John Smight 
William Smiley 
Abraham Smith 
Alexander Smith 
Allan Smith 
Andrew Smith (2) 
Anthony Smith 
Archibald Smith 
Basil Smith 
Benjamin Smith 

(2) 
Burrell Smith 
Buskin Smith 
Charles Smith 
Clement Smith 
Clemont Smith 
Daniel Smith (3) 
David Smith 
Easoph Smith 
Edward Smith 
Eleazar Smith 
Enoch Smith 
Epaphras Smith 
Ezekiel Smith 
George Smith 
Gideon Smith 
Haymond Smith 
Henry Smith 
Hugh Smith 
Jack Smith 
James Smith (7) 
Jasper Smith 
John Smith (12) 
Jonathan Smith (5^ 
Joshua Smith 
Joseph Smith (3) 
Laban Smith 
Martin Smith 
Richard Smith (3) 
Rockwell Smith 
Roger Smith (2) 
Samuel Smith (6> 



Appendix 



485 



Stephen Smith 
Sullivan Smith 
Thomas Smith (8) 
Walter Smith 
William Smith (4) 
Zebediah Smith 
Thomas Smithson 
Peter Smothers 
Samuel Snare 
John Snellin 
John Sneyders 
Peter Snider 
William Snider 
Ebenezer Snow 
Seth Snow 
Sylvanus Snow 
Abraham Soft 
Raymond Sogue 
Assia Sole 
Nathan Solley 
Ebenezer Solomon 
Thomas Solomon 
James Sooper 
Christian Soudower 
Moses Soul 
Nathaniel Southam 
William Southard 
Henry Space 
Enoch Spalding 
Joshua Soaner 
Charles Sparefoot 
James Sparrows 
John Speake 
Martin Speakl 
James Spear 
Eliphaz Speck 
Elrbie Snellman 
William Spellman 
James Spencer 
Joseph Spencer 
Nicholas Spencer 
Thomas Soencer 
Solomon Spenser 
Henry Spice 
John Spicer (2) 
Lancaster Spice- 

wood 
John Spier (2) 
Richard Spigeman 
John Spinks 
Caleb Spooner 



David Spooner 
Shubab Spooner 
William Spooner 
Jonathan Sprague 
Simon Sprague 
Philip Spratt 
Charles Spring 
Richard Springer 
John Spriggs 
Joshua Spriggs 
Thomas Spriggs 
William Springer 
Alexander Sproat 
Thomas Sproat 
Gideon Spry 
Long Sprywood 
Nathaniel Spur 
Joshua Squibb 
David Squire 
John St. Clair 
Francisco St. Do- 
mingo 
John St. Thomas 
John Staagers 
Thomas Stacy 
Thomas Stacey 
Christian Stafford 
Conrad Stagger 
Edward Stagger 
Samuel Stalk- 
weather 
John Standard 
Lemuel Standard 
Butler Stanford 
Richard Stanford 
Robert Stanford 
John Stanhope 
William Stannard 
Daniel Stanton 
Nathaniel Stanton 

(2) 
William Stanton 
Joseph Stanley 
Peter Stanley 
Starkweather Stan 

ley 
W. Stanley 
William Stanley 
Abijah Stapler 
Timothy Star 
Samuel Starke 



Benjamin Starks 
Woodbury^ Stark- 
weather 
John Stearns 
William Stearny 
Daniel Stedham 
Thomas Steele 
James Steelman 
John Steer 
Stephen Sleevman 
John Stephen 
Benjamin Stephens 
John Stephens (2) 
Henry Stephens 
William Stephens 

(3) 
David Stephenson 
John Stephenson 
John Sterns 
William Sterry 
David Stevens 
James Stevens 
Joseph Stevens 
Levert Stevens 
William Stevens 
Robert Stevenson 
Charles Steward 
Joseph Steward 
Lewis Steward 
Samuel Steward 
Daniel Stewart 
Edward Stewart 

(3) 
Elijah Stewart 
Hugh Stewart 
Jabez Stewart (2) 
John Stewart 
Samuel Stewart 
Stephen Stewart 
Thomas Stewart 
William Stewart 
John Stiger 
John Stikes 
Daniel Stiles 
- Israel Stiles 
John Stiles 
Joshua Stiles 
Josiah Stiles 
Ashley Stillman 
Theodore Stillman 
Enoch Stillwell 



486 American Prisoners of the Revolution 



John Stillwell 
Jacob Stober 
Hugh Stocker 
William Stocker 
Simeon Stockwell 
Israel Stoddard 
Noah Stoddard 
Thomas Stoddard 
Edward Stoddart 
Israel Stoddart 
Nathaniel Stoey 
Abney Stone 
Amos Stone 
Donald Stone 
Elijah Stone 
Richard Stone 
Thomas Stone (5) 
William Stone 
Boston Stoneford 
Job Stones 
John Stones 
Matthew Stoney 
Jonathan Stott 
Seren Stott 
John Stoughton 
Daniel Stout 
George Stout 
William Stout 
Andrew Stowers 
Blair Stove 
Joseph Strand 
James Strange 
Joshua Bla Stratia 
James Stridges 
John Stringe 
John Stringer 
Joseph Stroad 
Samuel Stroller 
Joseph Stroud 
Benjamin Stubbe 
John Sturtivant 
Smith Stutson 
James Suabilty 
Benjamin Subbs 
Jacquer Suffaraire 
Manuel Sugasta 
Miles Suldan 
Parks Sullevan 
Dennis SulHvan • 
Patrick Sullivan 
Thomas Sullivan 



George Summers Ebenezer Talbott 
Rufus Sumner William Talbut 

Amos Sunderland James Talketon 
Edward Sunderland Archibald Talley 



(3). 

Francis Suneneau 
John Suneneaux 
Andre Surado 
Godfrey Suret 
Jack C. Surf 
Francis Surronto 
Hugh Surtes 
John Surtevant 
John Sussett 
Franco Deo Sutte- 

graz 



John Tankason 
Caspar Tanner 
John Tanner 
William Tant 
Thomas Tantis 
Samuel Tapley 
Isaac Tappin 
Antonio Tarbour 
Townsend Tarena 
Edward Target 
John Tarrant 
Lewis Tarret 
Louis John Sutter- Domingo Taugin 



W)S 

George Sutton 
James Sutton 
John Sutton 
Thomas Sutton 
Jacob Snyder 
Roman Suyker 
Simon Swaine 
Zacharias Swaine 
Thomas Swapple 
Absalom Swate 
James Swayne 
Isaac Swean 
Peter Swean (2) 
Enoch Sweat 
John Sweeney (2) 
Benjamin Sweet 



Edward Tayender 
Samuel Taybor 
Alexander Taylor 
Andrew Taylor (2) 
Gabriel Taylor 
Hezekiah Taylor 
Isaac Taylor 
Jacob Taylor (3) 
John Taylor (8) 
Captain John Tay- 
lor 
Joseph Taylor (2) 
Major Taylor 
Noadiah Taylor 
Peter Taylor 
Robert Taylor (3) 
Tobias Taylor 
William Taylor (3) 



Godfrey Sweet (2) 

Nathaniel Sweeting George Teather 

Joshua Swellings Thomas Tebard 



Daniel Swery 
Martin Swift 
William Swire 



Anthony Tabee 
John Taber (2) 
Thomas Taber 
Samuel Table 
John Tabor 
Polack Tabor 
Ebenezer Tabowl 
Ebenezer Talbot 
Silas Talbott 



John Teller 
Jean Temare 
John Templing 
Philip Temver 
Gilbert Tennant 
Thomas Tenny 
Henry Teppett 
Governe Terrene 
Joshua Ternewe 
Thomas Terrett 
William Terrett 
John Terry 
Samuel Terry 
William Terry 



Appendix 



487 



Joshua Teruewe 
Zerlan Tesbard 
Jean Tessier 
Freeborn Thandick 
Lewis Thaxter 
Seren Thaxter 
John Thelston 
Robert Therey 
Simon Thimagun 
Thurdick Thintle 

Thomas 

Abner Thomas 
Andrew Thomas 
Cornelius Thomas 
Ebenezer Thomas 

(3) 
Edward Thomas 
Green Thomas 
Herod Thomas 
Jacques Thomas 

(2) 
James Thomas (2) 
Jean Supli Thomas 
Jesse Thomas (2) 
John Thomas (8) 
Joseph Thomas 
Thomas Thomas 
Urias Thomas 
William Thomas 
Abraham Thomp- 
son 
Andrew Thompson 

(3) 
Bartholomew 

Thompson 
Benjamin Thomp- 
son (2) 
Charles Thompson 
Eli Thompson 
George Thompson 
Harvey Thompson 
Isaac Thompson 
Israel Thompson 
John Thompson (8) 
Joseph Thompson 

Lawrence Thomp- 
son 
Patrick Thompson 
Robert Thompson 
(3) 



Seth Thompson 

(2) 
William Thompson 

(6) 
John Thorian 
William Thorner 
James Thornhill 
Christian Thornton 
Christopher Thorn- 
ton 
Jesse Thornton 
Samuel Thornton 
Thomas Thornton 
William Thorpe 
Gideon Threwit 
Sedon Thurley 
Benjamin Thurston 
Samuel Thurston 
Samuel Tibbards 
Richard Tibbet 
George Tibbs 
Henry Ticket 
Harvey Tiffman 
Andrew Tillen 
Jacob Tillen 
Peter Tillender 
Thomas Tillinghast 
David Tilmouse 
John Tilson 
Nicholas Tilson 
Grale Timcent 
George Timford 
Jeremiah Timrer 
Alexander Tindell 
James Tinker 
William Tinley 
Joseph Tinlevs 
Anthony Tioffe 
Samuel Tippen 
Jean Tirve 
Stephen Tissina 
Michael Titcomb 
Moses Titcomb 
James Tobin 
Thomas Tobin (2) 
John Todd 
William Todd 
Thomas Tolley 
Francis ToUings 
Henry Tollmot 
Thomas T'omay 



James Tomkins 
Charles Tomped 
Benjamin Tomp- 
kins 
William Tompkins 
Thomas Thompson. 
Henry Too 
Andrew Toombs. 
Rufus Toppin 
Christopher Torpin 
Francis Torrent 
Michael Tosa 
Daniel Totton 
Pierre Touleau 
Robert Toulger 
Sylvanus Toulger 
Dominic Tour 
Jean Tournie 
Francis Tovell 
Joseph Towbridge 
John Towin 
Samuel T'ownhend 
James Townley 
Samuel Towns 
Elwell Townsend 
Jacob Townsend 
Jeremiah Townsend 
William Townsend, 
Jille Towrand 
James Towser 
Thomas Toy 
Benjamin Tracy 
Jesse Tracy 
Nathaniel Tracy 
Jacob Trailey 
William Traine 
Thomas Trampe 
Nathaniel Trask (2) 
Richard Traveno 
Christopher Tra- 
verse 
Solomon Treat 
James Treby 
James Tredwell 
William Treen 
Andrew Trefair 
Thomas Trenchard 
William Trendley 
Thomas W. Tre- 

scott 
Andre Treasemas 



488 American Prisoners of the Revolution 



Edward Trevett 
Job Trevo 
John Trevor 
Thomas Trip 
Richard Tripp 
Thomas Tripp 
Jacob Tripps 
John Tritton 
Ebenezer Trivet 
Jabez Trop 
John Trot 
John Troth 
William Trout 
John Trow 
Benjamin Trow- 
bridge 
David Trowbridge 
Stephen Trowbridge 
Thomas Trowbridge 
Joseph Truck 
Peter Truck 
William Trunks 
Joseph Trust 
Robert Trustin 
George Trusty 
Edward Tryan 
Moses Trvon 
Saphn Tubbs 
Thomas Tubby 
John Tucke 
Francis Tucker 
John Tucker (4) 
Joseph Tucker (2) 
Nathan Tucker 
Nathaniel Tucker 
Paul Tucker 
Robert Tucker (2) 
Seth Tucker 
Solomon Tucker 
George Tuden 
Charles Tully 
Casper Tumner 
Charles Tunkard 
Charles Turad 
Elias Turk 
Joseph Turk 
Caleb Turner 
Caspar Turner 
Francis Turner 
George Turner 
James Turner 
John Turner (3) 



Philip Turner Toser Vegier 

Thomas Turner (4) Bruno Velis 

William Turner (2) David Velow 

Lisby Turpin (2) 

Peter Turrine 

John Tutten 

Daniel Twigg 

Charles Twine 

Joseph Twogood 

Daily Twoomey 

Thomas Tyerill 



Jean Tyrant 
John Tyse 

U 
Urson Ullaby 
Thomas Umthank 
Benjamin Uncers 
Joseph Union 
Obadiah Upton 
John Usher 
Andre Utinett 
Abimelech Uuncer 

V 
Peter Vaidel 
Pierre Valem 
Joseph Valentine 
George Vallance 
David Vallet 
John Valpen 
Nathan Vamp 
William Vance 



William Venable 
Moses Ventis 
Samuel Ventis 
Joseph Verdela 
Julian Verna 
Peter Vesseco 
Justin Vestine 
Pierre Vettelet 
John Vial 
Jean Viauf 
William Vibert 
Anare Vic 
John Vickery 
Roger Victory 
David Viegra 
Daniel Viero 
WilliamVierse 
Jean Vigo 
John Vilvee 
Lange Vin 
Peter Vinane 
Francis Vincent 
William Vinnal 
Robert Virnon 
Jean Vissenbouf 
Andrew Vitena 
Joseph Vitewell 
Juan Albert Vixe- 

aire 
John Voe 



Thomas Vandegrift Jobn Vonkett 
Francis Vandegrist William Von Won 
Patrick Vandon Nicholas Vookly 

John Vandross John Vorus 

Eleazar Van Dyke Henry Voss 
John Van Dyke George Vossery 

Nathaniel Van Horn 
William Van Horn W 

Christain Vann Christian Wadde 

Jean Van Orse Benjamin Wade 



James Vanoster 
Barnabus Varley 
Patrick Vasse 
Richard Vaugh 
Aaron Vaughan 
Andrew Vaughan 
Christian Vaughan 
David Veale 
Elisha Veale 



Thomas Wade (2) 
Christopher Wad- 

ler 
Richard Wagstaff 
Joseph Wainwright 
Jacob Wainscott 
Matthew Wainscott 
Charles Waistcoott 
Ezekiel Waistcoat 



Appendix 



489 



Jabez Waistcoat 
Jacob Waistcoat 
John Waistcoat 
Joseph Waiterly 
Joseph Wakefield 
Joseph Walcot 
Asa Walden 
George Walding 
John Waldrick 
Ephraim Wales 
Samuel Wales 
Baldwin Walker 
Daniel Walker 
Ezekiel Walker 
George Walker 
Hezekiah Walker 
John Walker 
Joseph Walker 
Michael Walker (4) 
Nathaniel Walker 

(4) 
Richard Walker 
Samuel Walker (2) 
Thomas Walker 

(2) 
William Walker (2) 
James Wall 
Bartholomew Wal- 
lace 
John Wallace 
Joseph Wallace 
Thomas Wallace 

(2) 
Ebenezer Wallar 
Joseph Wallen 
Caleb Waller 
George Wallesly 
Anthony Wallis 
Benjamin Wallis 
Ezekiel Wallis 
George Wallis 
Hu<?h Wallis 
James Wallis 
John Wallis 
Jonathan Wallis 
John Wallore 
Edward Walls 
William Wallsey 
William Walmer 
Robert Walpole 
John Walsey 
Patrick Walsh 



George Walter 
John Walter 
Joseph Walter 
Jonathan Walters 
Roger Walters 
Henry Walton 
John Walton 
Jonathan Walton 
John Wandall 
Ezekiel Wannell 
Powers Wansley 
Michael Wanstead 
George Wanton 
Benjamin Ward 
Charles Ward 
Christenton Ward 
David Ward 
Joseph Ward 
Simon Ward 
Thomas Ward 
William Ward 
John Warde 
Benjamin Wardell 
John Wardell 
James Wardling 
Elijah Wareman 
William Warf 
Unit Warky 
Joseph Warley 
Joseph Warmesley 
William Taylor 

Warn 
Christopher Warne 
Andrew Warner 
Amos Warner 
Berry Warner 
John Warner 
Obadiah Warner 
Samuel Warner (2) 
Thomas Warner 
Robert Warnock 
Christopher War- 

rell 
Benjamin Warren 
Jonathan Warren 
Obadiah Warren 
Richard Warring- 
ham 
William Warring- 
ton 
Thomas Warsell 
Lloyd Warton 



Joseph Wartridge 
Townsend W a s h- 

ington 
Asher Waterman 

(2) 
Azariah Waterman 
Calvin Waterman 
John Waterman 
Samuel Waterman 
Thomas Waterman 
William Waterman 

(3) 
Henry Waters 
John Waters 
Thomas Waters 
John Watkins 
Thomas Watkins 

Edward Watson 
Joseph Watson 
Henry Watson (2) 
John Watson (5) 
iSTathaniel Watson 
Robert Watson 
Thomas Watson 

(5) 
William Watson 
John Watt 
William Wattle 
Henry Wattles 
Joseph Watts 
Samuel Watts 
Thomas Watts 
Andrew Waymore 
James Wear 
Jacob Weatherall 
Joseph Weatherox 
Thomas Weaver 
Jacob Webb 
James Webb 
John Webb (3) 
Jonathan Webb 
Michael Webb 
Nathaniel Webb 
Oliver Webb 
Thomas Webb (2) 
William Webb (2) 
Joseph Webber 
William Webber 

(2) 
George Webby 
Francis Webster 



490 American Prisoners of the Revolution 



William Wedden 
John Wedger 
David Wedon 
William Weekman 
Francis Weeks (2) 
James Weeks 
Seth Weeks 
Thomas Weeks 
John Welanck 
Ezekiel Welch 
George Welch 
Isaac Welch 
James Welch (5) 
Matthew Welch 
Moses Welch 
Philip Welch 
Joseph Wenthoff 
Nellum Welk 
John Wellis 
John Wellman 
Matthew Wellman 
Timothy Wellman 
Cornelius Wells 
Ezra Wells 
Gideon Wells 
Joseph Wells 
Peter Wells 
Richard Wells 
William Wells 
Toseph Welpley 
David Welsh 
John Welsh 
Patrick Wen 
Isaac Wendell 
Robert Wentworth 
Joseph Wessel 
William Wessel 
John Wessells 
Benjamin West 
Edward West 
Jabez West (3) 
Richard West (2) 
Samuel Wester 
Henry Weston 
Simon Weston 
William Weston 
Philip Westward 
Jesse Wetherby 
Thomas Whade 
John Wharfe 
Lloyd Wharton 
Michael Whater 



Jesse Wheaton 
Joseph Wheaton 
Henry Wheeler 
Michael Wheeler 
Morrison Wheeler 
William Wheeler 

(2) 
Michael Whelan 
Michael Whellan 
James Whellan 
Jesse Whelton 
John Whelton 
Horatio Whethase 
John Whila 
Benjamin Whipple 

(2) 
Samuel Whipple 
Stephen Whipple 
Christopher Whip- 

pley 
Benjamin White 

(2) 
Ephraim White 
Ichabod White 
James White 
John White (7) 
Lemuel White 
Joseph White 
Lemuel White 
Richard White 
Robert White 
Sampson White (2) 
Samuel White (2) 
Thomas White (2) 
Timothy White 
Watson White 
William VVhite (3) 
Jacob Whitehead 
Enoch Whitehouse 
Harmon Whiteman 
Luther W^hitemore 
William Whitepair 
Card Way Whit- 

housen 
George Whiting 

James Whiting 
William Whiting 
John Whitlock 
Josenh Whitlock 
William Whitlock 
Samuel Whitmolk 



George Whitney 
Isaac Whitney 
James Whitney 
John Whitney 
Peter Whitney 
Joseph Whittaker 
Jacob Whittemore 
Felix Wibert 
Conrad Wickery 
Joseph Wickman 
Samuel Wickward 
Leron Widgon 
John Wier (2) 
John Wigglesv/orth 
Irwin Wigley 
Michael Wiglott 
Stephen Wigman 
John Wigmore 
Edward Wilcox (2) 
Isaac Wilcox 
Obadiah Wilcox 
Pardon Wilcox 
Robert Wilderidger 
Charles Wilkins 
Amos Wilkinson 
William Wilkinson 
George Willard 
John Willard 
Julian Willard 
John Willeman 
Benjamin Willeroon 
James Willet 
Conway Willhouse 
Amos Williams 
Barley Williams 
Benjamin Williams 
Cato Williams 
Charles Williams 
Dodd Williams 
Edward Williams 
Ephraim Williams 
Ethkin Williams 
George Williams 

(3) 
Henry Williams (2) 
Isaac Williams (2) 
James Williams (4) 
Teffrev Williams 
John Williams (9) 
Jonathan Williams 

(2) 
Moses Williams 



Appendix 



49 i 



Nathaniel Williams 
Nicholas Williams 
Peter Williams 
Richard Williams 
Samuel Williams 

(2) 

William Williams 

(2) 
William William- 
son 
John Foster W i 1- 

Han 
John Williman 
Day Willin 
Abel Willis 
Frederick Willis 
John Willis (2) 
Jesse Willis 
Abraham Williston 
Joseph Willman 
Abraham Willor 
Guy Willoson 
Benjamin Willshe 
Benjamin Willson 
Francis Willson 
James Willson (2) 
John Willson 
Martin Willson 
Thomas Willson 
Timothy Willson 
W. Willson 
William Willson 
Samuel Wilmarth 
Luke Wilmot 
Benjamin Wilson 

(2) 
Edward Wilson 
George Wilson 
John Wilson 
Lawrence Wilson 
Nathaniel Wilson 
Patrick Wilson 
William Wilson 
George Wiltis 
Vincest Wimonde- 

sola 
Guilliam Wind 
Edward Windgate 
Joseph Windsor 
Stephen Wing 



Jacob Wingman 
Samuel Winn 
Jacob Winnemore 
Seth Winslow 
Charles Winter 
George Winter 
Joseph Winters 
David Wire 
John Wise 
Thomas Witham 
John Witherley 
Solomon Witherton 
William Withpane 
William Witless 
Robert Wittington 
W^ Wittle 
John Woesin 
Henry Woist 
Henry Wolf 
John Wolf 
Simon de Wolf 
Stephen de Wolf 
Champion Wood 
Charles Wood (3) 
Daniel Wood (4) 
Edward Wood (2) 
George Wood 
Jabez Wood 
John Wood 
Jonathan Wood 
Joseph Wood (2) 
Justus Wood 
Matthew Wood 
Samuel Wood (2) 
William Wood 
Herbert Woodbury 

(3) 
Jacob Woodbury 
Luke Woodbury 
Nathaniel Wood- 
bury 
Robert Woodbury 
William Woodbury 
Thomas Woodfall 
David Woodhull 
Henry Woodly 
Nathaniel W o o d- 

man 
James Woodson 
Joseph Woodward 



Gideon Woodwell 
Abel Woodworth 
Edward Woody 
John Woody 
Michael Woolock 
Michael W o o m 

stead 
James Woop 
William Wooten 
James Worthy 
John Wright 
Robert Wright 
Benjamin Wyatt 
John Wyatt (2) 
Gordon Wyax 
Reuben Wyckoff 
William Wyer 
Henry Wylie 

X 
John Xmens 



Joseph Yalkington 
Joseph Yanger 
Joseph Yard 
Thomas Yates 
Francis Yduchare 
Adam Yeager 
Jacob Yeason 
Jacob Yeaston 
Pender Yedrab 
George Yoannet 
Edward Yorke 
Peter Yose 
Alexander Young 
Archibald Young 
Charles Young 
George Young 
Ichabod Young 
Jacob Young 
John Young (2) 
Marquis Young (2) 
Seth Young 
William Young 
Charles Youngans 
Louis Younger 

Z 

Jean Peter Zamiel 
Pierre Zuran 



APPENDIX B 



^S-^SE?-^ 



The Prison Ship Martyrs of the Revolution, 
AND AN Unpublished Diary of One of Them, 
William Slade, New Canaan, Conn., Later 
of Cornwall, Vt. 

THE following extremely interesting article on the 
prisoners and prison ships of the Revolution was 
written by Dr. Longworthy of the United States 
Department of agriculture for a patriotic society. Through 
his courtesy I am allowed to publish it here. I am sorry 
I did not receive it in time to embody it in the first part of 
this book. 

D. D. 

Doubtless all of us are more or less familiar with the 
prison ship chapter of Revolutionary history, as this is one 
of the greatest, if not the greatest, tragedies of the strug- 
gle for independence. At the beginning of the hostilities 
the British had in New York Harbor a number of trans- 
ports on which cattle and stores had been brought over in 
1776. These vessels lay in Gravesend Bay and later were 
taken up the East River and anchored in Wallabout Bay, 
and to their number were added from time to time ves- 
sels in such condition that they were of no use except as 
prisons for American troops. The names of many of these 
infamous ships have been preserved, the Whitby, the Good 
Hope, the Hunter, Prince of Wales, and others, and worst 
of all, the Jersey. 

It was proposed to confine captured American seamen 
in these ships, but they also served as prisons for thous- 
ands of patriot soldiers taken in the land engagements in 
and about New York. The men were crowded in these 
small vessels under conditions which pass belief. They 
suffered untold misery and died by hundreds from lack of 
food, from exposure, smallpox and other dreadful diseases, 
and from the cruelty of their captors. The average death 
rate on the Jersey alone was ten per night. A conserva- 
tive estimate places the total number of victims at 11,500. 



Appendix 493 

The dead were carried ashore and thrown into shallow 
graves or trenches of sand and these conditions of horror 
continued from the beginning of the war until after peace 
was declared. Few prisoners escaped and not many were 
exchanged, for their conditions were such that command- 
ing officers hesitated to exchange healthy British prison- 
ers in fine condition for the wasted, worn-out, human 
wrecks from the prison ships. A very large proportion of 
the total number of these prisoners perished. Of the sur- 
vivors, many never fully recovered from their sufferings. 

In 1808, it was said of the prison ship martyrs: "Dread- 
ful, beyond description, was the condition of these unfor- 
tunate prisoners of war. Their sufferings and their sor- 
rows were great, and unbounded was their fortitude. Un- 
der every privation and every anguish of life, they firmly 
encountered the terrors of death, rather than desert the 
cause of their country. * * * 

"There was no morsel of wholesome food, nor one drop 
of pure water. In these black abodes of wretchedness and 
woe, the grief worn prisoner lay, without a bed to rest his 
weary limbs, without a pillow to support his aching head 
— the tattered garment torn from his meager frame, and 
vermin preying on his flesh — his food was carrion, and his 
drink foul as the bilge-water — there was no balm for his 
wounds, no cordial to revive his fainting spirits, no friend 
to comfort his heart, nor the soft hand of affection to close 
his dying eyes — heaped amongst the dead, while yet the 
spark of life lingered in his frame, and hurried to the grave 
before the cold arms of death had embraced him. * * h* 

" 'But,' you will ask, 'was there no relief for these vic- 
tims of misery?' No — there was no relief — their astonish- 
ing sufferings were concealed from the view of the world 
— and it was only from the few witnesses of the scene who 
afterwards lived to tell the cruelties they had endured, that 
our country became acquainted with their deplorable con- 
dition. The grim sentinels, faithful to their charge as the 
fiends of the nether world, barred the doors against the 
hand of charity, and godlike benevolence never entered 
there — compassion had fled from these mansions of des- 
pair, and pity wept over other woes." 

Numerous accounts of survivors of the prison ships 



494 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

have been preserved and some of them have been pub- 
lished. So great was popular sympathy for them that im- 
mediately after the close of the Revolutionary War an at- 
tempt was made to gather the testimony of the survivors 
and to provide a fitting memorial for those who had per- 
ished. So far as I have been able to learn most of the 
diaries and journals and other testimony of the prison 
ship victims relates to the later years of the war and par- 
ticularly to the Jersey, the largest, most conspicuous, and 
most horrible of all the prison ships. 

I have been so fortunate as to have access to a journal 
or diary kept by William Slade, of New Canaan, Conn., a 
young New Englander, who early responded to the call of 
his country and was captured by the British in 1776, 
shortly after his enlistment, and confined on one of the 
prison ships, the Grovner (or Grovesner). From internal 
evidence it would appear that this was the first or one of 
the first vessels used for the purpose and that Slade and 
the other prisoners with him were the first of the Ameri- 
can soldiers thus confined. At any rate, throughout his 
diary he makes no mention of other bands of prisoners in 
the same condition. The few small pages of this little 
diary, which was always kept in the possession of his fam-. 
ily until it was deposited in the Sheldon Museum, of Mid- 
dlebury, Vt., contain a plain record of every-day life 
throughout a period of great suffering. They do not dis- 
cuss questions of State and policy, but they do seem to 
me to bring clearly before the mind's eye conditions as 
they existed, and perhaps more clearly than elaborate 
treatises to give a picture of the sufferings of soldiers and 
sailors who preferred to endure all privations, hardships, 
and death itself rather than to renounce their allegiance to 
their country and enlist under the British flag. 

The first entry in the Slade diary was made November 
16, 1776, and the last January 28, 1777, so it covers about 
ten weeks. 

The entries were as follows: 

Fort Washington the 16th day November A. D. 1776. 
This day I, William Slade was taken with 2,800 more. We 
was allowed honours of War. We then marched to Har- 
lem under guard, where we were turned into a barn. We 



Appendix 495 

got little rest that night being verry much crowded, as 
some trouble [illegible]. * * * 

Sunday 17th. Such a Sabbath I never saw. We spent it 
in sorrow and hunger, having no mercy showd. 

Munday 18th. We were called out while it was still 
dark, but was soon marchd to New York, four deep, verry 
much frownd upon by all we saw. We was called Yankey 
Rebbels a going to the gallows. We got to York at 9 
o'clock, were paraded, counted off and marched to the 
North Church, where we were confind under guard. 

Tuesday 19th. Still confind without provisions till al- 
most night, when we got a little mouldy bisd [biscuit] 
about four per man. These four days we spent in hunger 
and sorrow being derided by everry one and calld Rebs. 

Wednesday, 20th. We was reinforsd by 300 more. We 
had 500 before. This causd a continual noise and verry 
big huddle. Jest at night drawd 6 oz of pork per man. 
This we eat alone and raw. 

Thursday, 21st. We passd the day in sorrow haveing 
nothing to eat or drink but pump water. 

Friday, 22nd. We drawd M lb of pork, ^ lb of bisd, one 
gil of peas, a little rice and some kittels to cook in. Wet 
and cold. 

Saturday, 23rd. We had camps stews plenty, it being all 
we had. We had now spent one week under confinement. 
Sad condition. 

Munday, 25th. We drawd ^ lb of pork a man, % of 
bisd, a little peas and rice, and butter now plenty but not 
of the right kind. 

Tuesday, 26th. We spent in cooking for wood was 
scarce and the church was verry well broke when done, 
but verry little to eat. 

Wednesday, 27th. Was spent in hunger. We are now 
dirty as hogs, lying any and every whare. Joys gone, sor- 
rows increase. 

Thursday, 28th. Drawd 2 lbs of bread per man, % lb of 
pork. A little butter, rice and peas. This we cooked and 
eat with sorrow and sadness. 

Friday, 29th. We bussd [busied] ourselves with trifels 
haveing but little to do, time spent in vain. 

Saturday, 30th. We drawd l lb of bread, ^ lb of pork, a 



496 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

little butter, rice and peas. This we eat with sorrow, dis- 
couragd. 

Sunday, 1st of Decembere 1776. About 300 men was 
took out and carried on board the shipping. Sunday spent 
in vain. 

Munday, 2nd, Early in the morning we was calld out 
and stood in the cold, about one hour and then marchd 
to the North River and went on board The Grovnor trans- 
port ship. Their was now 500 men on board, this made 
much confusion. We had to go to bed without supper. 
This night was verry long, hunger prevaild much. Sor- 
row more. 

Tuesday, 3rd. The whole was made in six men messes. 
Our mess drawd 4 lb of bisd, 4 oz of butter. Short allow. 
We now begin to feel like prisoners. 

Wednesday, 4th. We drawd 4 lb of bisd. After noon 
drawd 2 quarts of peas and broth without salt, verry weak. 

Thursday, 5th. We drawd 4 lb of bisd at noon, a little 
meat at night. Some pea broth, about one mouthful per 
man. We now feel like prisoners. 

Friday, 6th. of Deer. 1776. We drawd ^ of bisd, 4 oz of 
butter at noon and 2 quarts of provinder. Called burgo, 
poor stuff indeed. 

Saturday, 7th. We drawd 4 lb of bisd at noon, a piece 
of meat and rice. This day drawd 2 bisd per man for back 
allowance (viz) for last Saturday at the church. This day 
the ships crew weighd anchor and fell down the river 
below Govnors Island and saild up the East River to 
Turcle Bay [Turtle Bay is at the foot of 23rd street], and 
cast anchor for winter months. 

Sunday, 8th. This day we were almost discouraged, 
but considered that would not do. Cast off such thoughts. 
We drawd our bread and eat with sadness. At noon 
drawd meat and peas. We spent the day reading and in 
meditation, hopeing for good news. 

Munday, 9th. We drawd bisd and butter at noon, burgo 
[a kind of porrige] the poorest trade ever man eat. Not 
so good as provinder or swill. 

Tuesday, 10th. We drawd bisd at noon, a little meat 
and rice. Good news. We hear we are to be exchangd 
soon. Corpl. Hawl verry bad with small pox. 



Appendix 497 

Wednesday, 11th. We drawd bisd. Last night CorpI 
Hawl died and this morning is buryd. At noon drawd 
peas, I mean broth. Still in hopes. 

Thursday, 12th. We drawd bisd. This morning is the 
first time we see snow. At noon drawd a little meat and 
pea broth. Verry thin. We almost despair of being ex- 
changd. 

Friday, 13th. of Deer. 1776. We drawd bisd and butter. 
A little water broth. We now see nothing but the mercy 
of God to intercede for us. Sorrowful times, all faces 
look pale, discouraged, discouraged. 

Saturday, 14th. We drawd bisd, times look dark. 
Deaths prevail among us, also hunger and naked. We 
almost conclude (that we will have) to stay all winter. 
At noon drawd meat and rice. Cold increases. At night 
suffer with cold and hunger. Nights verry long and tire- 
some, weakness prevails. 

Sunday, 13th. Drawd bisd, paleness attends all faces, 
the melancholyst day I ever saw. At noon drawd meat 
and peas. Sunday gone and comfort. As sorrowfull 
times as I ever saw. 

Munday, 16th of Deer. 1776. Drawd bisd and butter at 
noon. Burgo poor. Sorrow increases. The tender mer- 
cys of men are cruelty. 

Tuesday, 17th. Drawd bisd. At noon meat and rice. 
No fire. Suffer with cold and hunger. We are treated 
worse than cattle and hogs. 

Wednesday, 18th. Drawd bisd and butter. At noon 
peas. I went and got a bole of peas for 4. Cole increases. 
Hunger prevails. Sorrow comes on. 

Thursday, ]9th., Drawd bisd the ship halld in for winter 
quarters. At noon drawd meat and peas. People grow 
sick verry fast. Prisoners verry much frownd upon by 
all. 

Friday, 20th. of Deer. 1776. Drawd bisd and butter this 
morn. Snow and cold. 2 persons dead on deck. Last 
night verry long and tiresom. At noon drawd burgo. 
Prisoners hang their heads and look pale. No comfort. 
All sorrow. 

Saturday, 21st. Drawd bisd. Last night one of our regt. 
got on shore, but got catched. Troubles come on com- 

—32 



498 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

fort gone. At noon drawd meat and rice. Verry cold. 
Soldiers and sailors verry cross. Such melancholy times 
I never saw. 

Sunday, 22nd. Last night nothing but grones all night 
of sick and dying. Men amazeing to behold. Such hard- 
ness, sickness prevails fast Deaths multiply. Drawd 
bisd. At nnon meat and peas. Weather cold. Sunday 
gone and no comfort. Had nothing but sorrow and sad- 
ness. All faces sad. 

Munday, 23rd. Drawd bisd and butter. This morning 
Sergt Kieth, Job March and several others broke out 
with the small pox. About 20 gone from here today that 
listed in the king's service. Times look verry dark. But 
we are in hopes of an exchange. One dies almost every 
day. Cold but pleasant. Burgo for dinner. People gone 
bad with the pox. 

Tuesday, 24th. Last night verry long and tiresom. 
Bisd. At noon rice and cornmeal. About 30 sick. 
(They) Were carried to town. Cold but pleasant. No 
news. All frees gro pale and sad. 

Wednesday, 25th. Lastnight was a sorrowful night. 
Nothing but grones and cries all night. Drawd bisd and 
butter. At noon peas. Capt. Benedict, Leiut Clark and 
Ensn Smith come on board and brought money for the 
prisoners. Sad times. 

Thursday, 26th. Last night was spent in dying grones 
and cries. I now gro poorly. Terrible storm as ever I 
saw. High wind. Drawd bisd. At noon meat and peas. 
Verry cold and stormey. 

Friday, 27th. Three men of our battalion died last 
night. The most malencholyest night I ever saw. Small 
pox increases fast. This day I was blooded. Drawd bisd 
and butter. Stomach all gone. At noon, burgo. Basset 
is verry sick. Not like to live I think. 

Saturday, 2Sth. Drawd bisd. This morning about 10 
cl. Josiah Basset died. Ensn Smith come here about noon 
with orders to take me a shore. We got to shore about 
sunset. I now feel glad. Coffee and bread and cheese. 

Sunday, 29th. Cof. and bread and cheese. This day 
washed my blanket and bkd my cloathes. The small 
pox now begins to come out. 



Appendix 499 

Mundaj^ 30th. Nothing but bread to eat and coffee to 
drink. This day got a glass of wine and drinkd. Got 
some gingerbread and appels to eat. 

Tuesday, 31st. Nothing good for breakt. At noon verry 
good. I grow something poorly all day. No fire and tis- 
cold, Pcx c(^mes out verry full for the time. The folks 
being gone 1 went into another house and got the man 
of the same to go and call my brother. When he came 
he said I wanted, looking after. The man concluded to 
let me stay at his house. 

Wednesday 1st of Jany. 1777. Pox come out almost 
full. About this time Job March and Daniel Smith died; 
with the small pox. 

Thursday, 2nd. Ensn Smith lookd about and got some- 
thing to ly on and in. A good deal poorly, but I endeav- 
ourd to keep up a good heart, considering that I should 
have it [the small pox] light for it was verry thin and 
almost full. 

Friday 3d. This morning the pox looks black in my 
face. This day Robert Arnold and Joshua Hurd died 
with the small pox. This day Ensn Smith got liberty to 
go home next morning, but omitted going till Sunday* on 
account of the prisoners going home. 

Saturday, 4th. Felt more poor than common. This day 
the prisoners come on shore so many as was able to 
travel which was not near all. 

Sunday, 5th. This morning Ensn Smith and about 150 
prisoners were set out for home. The prisoners lookd 
verry thin and poor. 

Monday 6th. Pox turnd a good deal but I was very 
poorly, eat but litte. Drink much. Something vapery. 
Coughd all night. 

Tuesday 7th. Nothing reml [remarkable] to write. Nft 
stomach to eat at all. Got some bacon. 

Wednesday, 8th. Feel better. This day I went out of 
doors twice. Nothing remarkl to write. 

Thursday, 9th. Tryd to git some salts to take but could 
not. Begin to eat a little better. 

Friday, 10th. Took a portion of salts. Eat water por- 
rage. Gain in strength fast. 



500 American Prisoners of the Revoi^ution 

Saturday, 11th. Walk out. Went and see our Connect- 
icut officers. Travld round. Felt a good deal better. 

Sundays 12th. Went and bought a pint of milk for 
bread. Verrj'- good dinner. Gain strength fast, Verry 
fine weather. Went and see the small-pox men and 
Samll. 

Munday, 13th. Feel better. Went and see the officer. 
Talk about going home, 

Tuesday, 14th. Went to Fulton market and spent seven 
coppers for cakes. Eat them up, Washd my blanket, 

Wednesday 15. Cleand up all my cloathes. Left Mr. 
Fenixes and went to the widow Schuylers. Board myself. 

Thursday, 16th. Went to Commesary Loring. Have 
incouragement of going home. Signd the parole. 

Friday, 17th. In expectation of going out a Sunday. 
Verry cold. Buy milk and make milk porrage. Verry 
good liveing. Had my dinner give. 

Saturday, 18t. Verry cold. Went to see Katy and got 
my dinner. Went to Mr. Loring. Some encouragement 
of going hom a Munday, to have an answer tomorrow 
morning. Bought suppawn (some corn?) meal and Yan- 
key. 

Sunday, 19th. Went to Mr. Lorings. He sd we should 
go out in 2 or 3 days. The reason of not going out now 
is they are a fighting at Kingsbridge. Went to Phenixes 
and got my dinner. Almost discouraged about going 
home. To have answer tomorrow. 

Munday, 20th. Nothing remarkable. Mr. Loring sd 
we should have an answer tomorrow. An old story, 

Tuesday, 21st. Still follow going to Mr. Lorings. No 
success. He keeps a saying come tomorrow. Nothing 
remarkable. 

Wednesday, 22. Mr. Loring says we should have a 
guard tomorrow, but it fell through. The word is we 
shall go out in 2 or 3 days, 

Thursday, 23d, Nothing remarkl. Almost conclude to 
stay all winter. 

Friday, 241h. Encouragement. Mr. Loring say that 
we shall go tomorrow. We must parade at his quaters 
tomorrow b}'- 8 oclok. 

Saturday, 25th. We paraded at Mr. Lorings by 8 or 



Appendix 501 

9 oclk. Marchd off about 10 oclk. Marchd about 6 miles 
and the officers got a waggon and 4 or 5 of us rid about 
4 miles, then travl'd about 1^, then the offr got a wag- 
gon and brcght us to the lines. We were blindfolded 
when we come by Fort. Independency. Come about 4/5 
of a mile whare we stay all night. Lay on the floor in 
our cloathes but little rest. 

Sunday, 2Gt.h. We marchd by sun rise. March but 8 
miles whare we got supper and lodging on free cost. 
This day gave 18 pence for breekft, 19 pence for dinner. 

Munday, 27th. Marchd 2 miles. Got breekft cost 19 
pence. Travld 2 or 3 miles and a waggon overtook us 
a going to Stamford. We now got chance to ride. Our 
dinner cost 11 count lawful. About 3 oclok met with 
Capt Hinmans company. See Judea folks and heard from 
home. This day come 13 miles to Horse neck Supper 
cost 16. Lodging free. 

Tuesday, 28th. Breekft cost 11. Rode to Stamford. 
Dinner 16. Travld 3 miles, supr and lodg free. 

Here the diary ends when Slade was within a few 
miles of his home at New Canaan, Conn., which he 
reached next day. 

Perhaps a few words of his future life are not without 
interest. He was one of the early settlers who went 
from Connecticut to Vermont and made a home in what 
was then a frontier settlement. He lived and died at 
Cornwall, Vt., and was successful and respected in the 
community. From 1801 to 1810 he was sheriff of Ad- 
dison County. Of his sons, one, William, was especially 
conspicuous among the men of his generation for his 
abilities and attainments. After graduation from Mid- 
dlebury College in 1810, he studied law, was admitted to 
the bar, and filled many offices in his town and county. 
After some business reverses he secured a position in 
the State Department in Washington in 1821. He was on 
the wrong side politically in General Jackson's campaign 
for the presidency, being like most Vermonters a sup- 
porter of John Quincy Adams. Some time after Jackson's 
inauguration, Slade was removed from his position in the 
State Department and this so incensed his friends in 
Vermont that as soon as a vacancy arose he was elected 



.'/ 



502 American Prisoners of the Revolution 

as Representative to Congress, where he remained from 
1831 to 1843. On his return from Washington he was 
elected Governor of Vermont in 1844, and in his later 
years was corresponding secretary and general agent of 
the Board of National and Popular Education, for which 
he did most valuable work. He was a distinguished 
speaker and an author of note, his Vermont State Pa- 
pers being still a standard reference work. 

To revert to the prison ship martyrs, their suffering 
was so great and their bravery so conspicuous that imme- 
diately after the War a popular attempt was made in 1792 
and 1798 to provide a proper resting place for the bones of 
the victims, which were scattered in the sands about 
Wallabout Bay. This effort did not progress very rap- 
idly and it was not until the matter was taken up by the 
Tammany Society that anything definite was really ac- 
complished. Owing to the efforts of this organization 
a vault covered by a small building was erected in 1808 
and the bones were collected and placed in the vault in 
thirteen large coffins, one for each of the thirteen col- 
onies, the interment being accompanied by imposing cer- 
emonies. In time the vault was neglected, and it was pre- 
served only by the efforts of a survivor, Benjamin Ro- 
maine, who bought the plot of ground on which the 
monument stood, when it was sold for taxes, and pre- 
served it. He died at an advanced age and was, by his 
own request, buried in the vault with these Revolutionary 
heroes. 

Early in the last century an attempt was made to in- 
terest Congress in a project to erect a suitable monu- 
ment for the prison ship martyrs but without success. 
The project has, however, never been abandoned by pa- 
triotic and public spirited citizens and the Prison Ship 
Martyrs' Society of the present time is a lineal descend- 
ant in spirit and purpose of the Tammany Club effort, 
which first honored these Revolutionary heroes. The ef- 
forts of the Prison Ship Martyrs' Association have proved 
successful and a beautiful monument, designed by Stan- 
ford White, will soon mark the resting place of these 
prison ship martyrs. 



